


30 Days Of USUK

by Hotaru_Mizuno



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: 30 Day OTP Challenge, 30 Days of Writing, 30 days of Fanfiction, Alternate Universe, Angst, Cardverse, College/University, Fluff, High School, Hitman Jones, Lots of writing, M/M, More tags to arrive, Multi, Nyotalia, Pirates, SO MUCH FLUFF, Smut, god help me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-01
Updated: 2019-10-30
Packaged: 2020-11-08 09:55:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 30
Words: 39,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20833535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hotaru_Mizuno/pseuds/Hotaru_Mizuno
Summary: 30 day OTP Challenge, but its UsUk!





	1. Day One

**Author's Note:**

> Hahaha. Nobody asked me to do this, but actually, I continue not to care. I decided it would be fun. 
> 
> So 30 day OTP challenge! UsUk!  
Yeah, I'm sure you all know how this works. One new fic per day for 30 days. I combined a bunch of prompts from Pinterest and Deviant Art for this, so maybe things will be different from other challenge fics people have probably seen.  
Each one shot will range from fluff to smut to angst, each being about as long as they need to be. Some are just some nice short fluff oneshots, some are smut ones. Some had drama, some may not, it just depends!^^
> 
> So a bit of a warning, tags, warnings, and ratings are most likely to change as this goes on, and I know for a fact it's going to go up very soon. So I'll be sure to give a warning when it does.

Day One: Pet Names

They both have pet names for each other.

Alfred would always shower his British lover in a number of pet names, all ranging from sweetheart or sweetie to the infamous nickname Artie. Arthur always expressed his distaste for every single one, insisting upon being called by his "real name."

But in truth, Arthur couldn't ever admit he really did hate any of them. On a hard day at work or full of classes, just hearing a cute nickname come from Alfred directed with true and loving fondness made Arthur's day a little better than it already was. He always scowled or complained when Alfred would call him something, but sometimes, Arthur would have to hold his tea mug up to his lips to hide a smile.

Alfred was the only person Arthur ever allowed to call him by pet names. He showed intense dislike for "Iggy" which, thank God, was only used during their early days as a couple. He didn't have a favorite since Alfred spoiled his lover rotten with affection and he had been called a number of nicknames. But he never pondered it.

There was that one day when Alfred had asked. It was out of the blue, and Arthur even expected the other was drunk.

"Hey, Artie…?" Alfred asks, face down in a couch pillow. Arthur rolled his eyes. The American was such a dork. It was hard to tell if he really was drunk or not. Arthur was hoping the latter, seeing as the lad had work tomorrow and it was only nine in the evening. 

"I can't hear you with your face covered like that," Arthur says snarkily, pretending he didn't really hear Alfred and turns another page in his book, a textbook about Shakespeare.

"Artieeeeee." Alfred then whines childishly, raising his head from the pillow. "Please talk to me."

"I'm busy," Arthur says, turning another page.

"Artieeeee!" Alfred whines again.

"Stop calling me that."

"You know you like it," Alfred says, snickering into the pillow. Sometimes he could only wonder what went on in that head of his.

"Where were you this evening, you sound like an idiot." Arthur retorts, glaring at Alfred from across the room

"Do you remember when I called you Iggy?" Alfred then asks, ignoring the Brit's Alfred.

Oh did he. It was a fantastic day when Alfred stopped using it. It was the only nickname Arthur actually hated. Not only is it degrading, but it was also so unbearably unprofessional. So were all the others, but "Iggy" beat all of those out of the water.

"Yes, and you'll never bring it up again or I won't have sex with you for a month," Arthur says, frowning in distaste.

"Awwww, don't do that," Alfred says, giggling. He gets up and faces Arthur, his blue eyes gleaming playfully. "Fine then. Which names do you like then?"

"None of them."

"Lies!" Alfred says, frowning. "You can't fool me, Artie."

"How so?"

"You think I can't notice when you get hard faster when I call you sweetheart in bed?"

Arthur's face goes red. Damm. That brat. He's pulling that card out. He hides the blush behind his book. "I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about." He says dismissively.

"Yes, you do! You love it don't you?"

"Shut up Alfred."

"Sweetheart, come on. If you say no again, I'll just stop using it then."

Arthur pauses. He sighs softly and closes his book defeatedly. "Fine. Have it your way then." He blushes a considerable amount. There were better names, especially when Alfred was being particularly rough, but Arthur would be sad to see this one go. Even if Alfred was just playing. "I do like it when you call me sweetheart."

"Hahaha!" Alfred yelled in triumph.

"Oh no, you don't," Arthur says, getting up, his book now long forgotten. "You have to admit you like my pet names too."

Alfred blinks through his glasses, looking at Arthur. He grins brightly. "You mean those British ones? Like ...poppet?"

"Sure," Arthur says, choosing not to remind him of his grammatical mistake his one time. He then smirked, leaning down on the couch arm, at Alfred's level. "Come on then, love."

"I kinda have to admit, "Love" Is cute." Alfred smiles at Arthur, inches apart from each other. "Poppet is kinda creepy, no lie." Then he pauses. "Whenever you top during sex though…. it's really kinda hot." 

Arthur smirks wider in triumph at the rise of pink in the American's cheeks at admitting that. "Why thank you, Alfred. I'll have to remember that the next time I bed you." 

Alfred blushes more and laughs nervously. "Er, right. Well, umm ... I have homework to do." He says weakly.

"Do you think I'm daft? There's no way you'll get anything done in your state!"

Yes, I will!"

Arthur glares at him. "No, you won't you bloody idiot! Your arse is going to be early!"

Alfred whines yet again like a child.

Alfred thought Arthur was so cute whenever he denied being called something other than his name. Alfred was simply used to it, seeing as he gave the same treatment to most others he dated. Of course, Arthur was the first and only boy Alfred had dated, his previous dates being all girls. Arthur had been what made him realize his identity as bisexual after all.

But Arthur was special. Alfred only had one or two pet names for his previous dates. For Arthur, he used them all. He loved to show his little Brit how much he truly loved him. He'd lavishly shower Arthur in affection, and no matter how the other frowned, Alfred knew Arthur liked it. 

He didn't show it, but he saw every one of those smiles Arthur tried to hide behind his mug or his book. He was well used to Arthur being shy when it comes to affection and knew how to get around it. 

It was quite amusing when this happened in bed because all defense Arthur had always shattered within minutes. Arthur was nothing short of a loud slut in bed, and Alfred loved every bit of it. Of course, he also loved when Arthur would take control too. Arthur really was one hell of a dominator.

Speaking of which, Alfred also found Arthur's pet names cute as well. His list was much smaller than Alfred's but even still. It was already obvious that the names made things quite sexy during their time together in bed, but just everyday things too. Like Arthur, Alfred never had a favorite. He loved them all.

Just like he loved every bit of Arthur.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Got requests or questions or a need to voice your disagreement about why cats shouldn't have the right to kill their owners if they neglect them? Cool. There is a way to do that, at my discord server! Come make requests about fanfiction or ask me questions or just chat. The server is infinitely open.  
^^  
https://discord.gg/zPdE9Qe


	2. Day Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting and making posts daily is going to be weird. I'm used to having more than a day in advance for posts, usually. I like having things planned out ahead of time when it comes to writing. This is basically fish out of water for me.
> 
> Oh, yeah. So this is about kissing. I got inspiration from a manga series I used to read. :/

Day Two: First kiss

It happens very weirdly.

Before dating Alfred, Arthur hadn't really kissed anyone. He was only sixteen, so there was no rush. He didn't feel very behind, and it was hard when he had been crushing on Alfred for two years before the other confessed to him.

Alfred hadn't really tried to advance things further either. Other than hand-holding and cuddling, they hadn't done anything really intimate yet. It made Arthur uneasy. Did Alfred not like him? Was he already having second thoughts about asking him out?

He had been thinking about this very thing while they were walking home from school that day. It was Wednesday, not much to look forward to. Either than Friday, when Alfred had insisted upon taking him on their first date. It made Arthur's heart pound to think about it. It was quite a novelty that anyone wanted to date him. Especially Alfred, of whom should be way out of his league. 

Arthur stole a glance at Alfred. He was occupied on his phone. Honestly, did the prat really think it was a good idea to be on his phone and walking at the same time?

Alfred noticed and looked up, his dazzling blue eyes a little confused. Arthur blushed profoundly and turned away, clutching the coat of his uniform tighter.

"Hey, Artie," Alfred says, smiling innocently.

Arthur blushed harder. "Yes?"

"Want some candy?"

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"I said, did you want some candy? Or wait, what do you British people call it?" Alfred frowned childishly. "Sweets ...?"

"You idiot, it's English, not British!" Arthur retorts. It was common knowledge that the Brit would sacrifice being nice if it meant correcting grammatical errors. 

"Ah, whatever!" Alfred throws his head back in a childish groan, and Arthur had to try hard to not smile at the display of complete silliness. "Do you want one or not? Surely your taste buds can't be that boring."

Arthur scowled in annoyance before answering; "Fine. What sort do you have-"

He was cut off in surprise when Alfred grabbed him by the shoulder and put his lips to Arthur's. The British student widened his eyes in surprise and sputtered, going rigid. Alfred was kissing him! He nearly choked when he felt Alfred's tongue, and then something being pushed into his mouth. Arthur realized what was going on in indignation and pushed away.

Arthur coughed in complete shock, nearly choking on the candy in his mouth. He swallowed and glared at Alfred the best he could. "You bloody twat! What the hell was that?!"

"A kiss!" Alfred announces, grinning ear to ear at Arthur's reddening face. "I gotta admit, that was pretty hot. If only you didn't react so badly."

Arthur flustered and glared harder. "You prat! You can't just try something like that! I wasn't ready!"

"You didn't like it?" Alfred asked, frowning. Arthur faltered at the flash of disappointment on that beautiful face and sighed.

"N-no ...just, it was really sudden ...that was my first kiss," Arthur admitted quietly, looking down. 

"Oh ...heh, I'd known that if I would've just asked. Sorry, I guess." Alfred said, looking like a child that had been caught stealing. 

"No...its fine," Arthur said, embarrassed. Was Alfred unimpressed by the fact that Arthur had only just now received his first kiss?

"Hey...um ...wanna do that again?"

Arthur shot up in surprise. Alfred really didn't think-? "You want to-"

"Kiss again? Yeah." Then Alfred looked nervous. It was hard to believe that the school popular jock himself was capable of anxiety, but there was his proof. "Only if you want to though."

"N-No! Please!" Arthur said all too quickly. He felt his stomach tighten in knots. And just weeks ago he had been watching his crush from afar. Who knew that now days he'd be asking to kiss him like this.

Alfred smiled gently and put a hand on Arthur's chin, tilting it up slightly to cover the height difference. And then their lips met.

Arthur melted. Now that the shock was over with, they could really enjoy it. It was wonderful. His legs felt almost liquidated as Alfred held his shoulders tightly. He tasted sweet, like ...well he supposed there had been candy in his mouth minutes ago.

Alfred broke off gently before smiling. "You taste good. Like tea and chocolate."

Arthur smirked ever so slightly. "I thought you hated tea."

"Only the hot kind. And besides, it can taste good. Especially on you." Alfred decides quietly, smiling at Arthur. 

"Don't be a prat. Don't you have a test to study for?"

Alfred's smile slipped off his face. "Uh ...no?"

"Right. Let's get home before my mum starts worrying." Arthur sighs in near disappointment that moment was now over. Well, it wasn't. There would be plenty more moments like that from now on he hoped.

Plenty more.


	3. Day Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a good way to just get unused ideas out. Ones that are more than perfect for small one-shots or ones I just either can't think something up to make it more or I'm not motivated enough to make it more.
> 
> I've always wanted to do Nerd/Punk AU, and have a big prompt I'm really attached to, but it's really quite long, much longer than a one-shot or two. So this is one that went smoothly for me
> 
> Warnings. Bruises and blood. Guess we'll raise that rating up just a bit. Lol.

Day Three: Patching the other up

"Arthur, what happened? You look horrible!"

The one in question huffed in annoyance and swatted Alfred away. "I'm fine. Just a few scratches."

"You liar!" Alfred protested, ignoring Arthur's efforts to shoo him away. He had been dating the delinquent for over a year after all. He was rather used to his efforts to pretend he didn't need help or affection. "You look like a bike crashed into you! You're bleeding too!" 

Arthur sighed and just sat down on the couch in Alfred's living room. "It was a little fight. Some blokes were running their mouths again. I'm fine, love. Really."

Alfred furrowed his brow. He was grateful his mother wasn't home. She'd make such a big fuss. "But you said you wouldn't pick fights anymore. What happened?"

The punkish Brit suddenly looked guilty. "Er...I'm sorry. I promise I have an explanation. I had a good reason to confront those prats." He said defensively, crossing his arms. He nearly flinched, moving his arm seeming to cause him pain.

A raw feeling of worry crossed Alfred's mind. Oh, how he hated when Arthur got into fights. He would always get hurt and sometimes worse. Alfred could blame this on his history of being such a goody-two-shoes, but he couldn't help but worry. "Can you at least let me take a look? Please?"

Arthur gave one look at Alfred's determinedly worried look and sighed in defeat. He could never resist Alfred's innocent puppy dog eyes.  
"Fine. Whatever."

A few minutes later and Arthur sat at the kitchen table, leather jacket now taken off and laid to the side. Alfred had his mother's first aid kit, insisting that he'd look Arthur over properly. He could tell it somewhat annoyed Arthur, but Alfred was at least wise enough to know the Brit didn't mean it. In fact, dare he say Arthur secretly liked it?

"So are you actually going to tell me anything about what happened?" Alfred starts slowly, clumsily digging around for the neisuforine and pain killer. Despite the number of times he did this, he always seemed to forget. 

Arthur huffed and leaned back in his chair. "I don't think it's important."

"Arthur!" 

Arthur caught wind of his disappointed look and scowled heavily for a moment before saying; "I was walking to your place and these blokes were talking shit, so I set them straight."

Alfred had located everything he needed and gently grabbed Arthur's arm, nearly grimacing at the number of bruises and injuries. "But why? Artie, I thought you finally stopped doing all of this. You know how I hate seeing you get hurt."

Arthur smirked gently at how soft his boyfriend was. "I had your complaints in mind, yes." He winced when the other started applying the disinfectant. "I just couldn't resist. Not with them running their mouths like that."

Alfred gave Arthur a look through his thick glasses. "Who were they? And who could possibly say such things that would make you fight them like that?" It could be the high school jocks again like always, the football players being the most frequent. Or some of the track team.

"From school. Obviously. Football jocks." Arthur says shortly, examining the now bandaged injuries as Alfred turned attention to his face. It was the worst of all, a huge bruise adorning his right cheek, the main show amongst others all over his face. It was what raised the first red flag to Alfred after all. It looked like someone punched him hard in the face. It made Alfred's stomach churn.

"What did they say? I bet it wasn't that bad." Alfred smiles as Arthur gives a pointed look. He leans away almost when Alfred tries to start tending to the injuries. He suddenly grumbled in distaste.

"Rubbish. They were talking shit about you, love. They were saying horrible things about you again and I just couldn't stand it." Arthur said, lamenting in deep anger.

Alfred frowned. This wasn't the first time this had happened. Far from it actually. The poor boy was the laughing stock of the school, always getting bullied for just existing. He had come to peace with it long before however. The hurtful words and torment never bothered him much, after all, he had more important things to worry about.

But then all of his bullying problems disappeared once Arthur showed up in his life. "Arthur, please. I don't care what they say about me. I just don't want you getting hurt." Alfred said with concern. The look of guilt intensified on Arthur's face and he turned away.

"I care. Those guys are bloody twats if they can't appreciate you. They don't even deserve to talk about you." Arthur said hotly. Alfred blushed profoundly, adjusting his glasses in embarrassment.

"Arthur, don't be silly," Alfred said, dropping the medical supplies. Arthur looked considerably better with the wounds hidden under bandages. It still made the American sick to think about what was under them though.

"I'm not! You should've heard them! You can't possibly think I'll just sit by and let them treat my precious boyfriend like trash!?" Arthur retorts, glaring at the other.

Alfred shrugged. "Whatever it is, I've probably heard it by now." He'd heard it all. Comments about his weight, his nerdy habits, how freakishly smart he was, his love for science and cartoons. All of the above. 

"So? What does that matter? That doesn't change the fact that they said it." Arthur grumbled. 

"Arthur…," Alfred said, then he sighed and gave an innocent smile. The kind of smile Arthur had completely fallen in love with. "You don't have to protect me like that. I don't care what they say. As long as you're not getting hurt like this. I hate seeing you get hurt like this just because of me."

Arthur smirks. "What? You think I didn't win?"

Alfred laughed. "Right. Whatever. I don't care. Just stop doing this."

"Fine. I suppose I can respect my lady's wishes." Arthur teases, smirking wider.

Alfred's face went red. "Don't call me that!"

"As you wish Madam."

"Stop it!"

"One day I'll win." Arthur sighs dramatically. "I thought we were going to watch a movie. Are you done playing mum?"

"Yes. Promise me you won't get in a fight again. Please?"

Arthur pauses. He nods. "I'll try my best love. Still, though, you don't deserve their torture. I almost hope one day if I punch them hard enough they'll finally come to their senses and see how beautiful you are."

"Oh, Arthur." Alfred stuttered, always caught off guard by the sheer amount of doting his boyfriend indulged him with. 

"I'm serious, love. They don't know what they're missing out on." Arthur said. His smile is full of passion and loving fondness as he speaks. "They won't ever know how much I love you."

Alfred smiles with giddy happiness. "I love you too."


	4. Day Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha. Now that rating is going up. It's smut time everyone. I'm using prompts from all kinds of sources, including the NSFW themed ones. I couldn't resist.
> 
> So yeah naturally, smut warning. Nothing too dirty, it's just two virgins having sex for the first time.

Day Four First-time sex.

Arthur moaned quietly as the other's tongue swirled in his mouth, exploring its territory. He was backed up against the wall the large bed sat by, Alfred's house empty save for just the two of them.

Alfred had cornered his boyfriend, snogging him to his heart's content. He wasn't quite sure how this happened; they were perfectly calm when they arrived. But upon the revelation Alfred's parents weren't home and wouldn't be for hours seemed to set the other off. Not that Arthur minded, but he was admittedly nervous about the direction it was going in.

Alfred broke, a trail of saliva attaching their mouths. Their foreheads touched and Arthur squirmed. Had he always felt so warm with Alfred so close to him? 

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Alfred says quietly, his voice rough. Arthur held the hands of the other tighter. It was true he was having second thoughts, but he'd be damned if he ever went back on something just because he was getting cold feet.

"Yes. Stop asking, you git. Surely you're not scared yourself, are you?" Arthur teased lightly, smiling against the other. A deep rumble came from Alfred's chest as the American chuckled. 

"No! I'm serious though. If you don't wanna, we can just watch a movie or something. I don't wanna hurt you." Alfred said, stroking the other's hand with his thumb. For a high school senior, he was overly affectionate. Then again, it's not like they've had sex before.

"No. I want this. Besides, you've done this before, remember?"

"I know, but not really. It was just a blow job. It's not ..." He went a little pink. "You know…."

Arthur smirked. "Whatever. Do you want to or not? My back is going to hurt soon."

Alfred nodded and let go before tackling Arthur down into the bed's covers. Arthur gasped in shock before his mouth was covered again by Alfred's kisses. Somewhere in his mind he thought it was amusing how playfully childish his boyfriend was, considering what they were about to do.

Arthur made an embarrassing little noise as Alfred trailed down to his neck, sucking and leaving love bites everywhere. Before this they had done some things. One night Alfred had given Arthur a blow job, and they jerked each other off too. But full-on sex was new for them. Until tonight of course.

Suddenly a burst of pleasure raced through Arthur's insides and he made a loud whimper. Alfred had found a particular spot on his neck and sucked it, which apparently have been overly sensitive. Arthur blushed in embarrassment as he grasped the sheets. He was supposed to be the mature one, how could he lose himself this quickly?

Alfred stopped and smiled up at Arthur, the look making the Brit's insides curl and twist. "I found a sensitive spot. How cute."

Arthur gave a fake scowl. "Don't be a brat. Or should I remind you of that little strand of hair on your head?" Alfred flustered and Arthur laughed at him.

"Fair enough." Alfred grins. "I kinda wanna move things along though." He grasped Arthur's shirt. "There's something I wanna try."

Arthur realized what he meant. His stomach twisted again as the warmth started to pool downwards. Was he already getting hard? He nodded and sat up, allowing Alfred to tug the shirt off of him and over his head. He squirmed once he saw Alfred's eyes immediately attract to the now bare chest.

"Are you just going to stare?" Arthur burst out, growing redder by the minute. "It's not like this is the first time you've seen me shirtless!"

Alfred grinned and took off his glasses. "I know. Still, though, I think I forgot how beautiful you are, sweetie." He laid his glasses on the night desk and reached to tug off his own shirt as Arthur laid back again.

"You know, you're one to talk, love." He smiled gently. "You've got such a perfect tan."

Alfred smiled wider still as he threw both their shirts to some unknown corner in the room. "That's nothing compared to yours. Yours is beautiful. It's like the skin of a porcelain doll. Your marble skin is gorgeous, Artie."

Arthur's erection twitched at the words, but instead, the Brit chose to say; "Don't ruin the moment by calling me that."

Alfred burst out laughing. "Oh come on, sweetheart. You're getting hard and that's what you choose to say?"

"Don't be a boast, you tosser. You're getting hard too." Arthur shot back.

"Yeah." Then he leaned down until his face was less than inches from Arthur's. "I'm afraid you're too hot for your own good. I'm going insane."

"So dramatic." Arthur teased, not being able to stay still from Alfred's hot breath tickling his skin. 

"Mmmm. Such a mouth. Let's put that to better use." Then he leaned back and experimentally tugged on one of the reddening buds on Arthur's chest.

Arthur bit his lip to hide another embarrassing noise. Oh, so that's what Alfred wanted to try. Dear God, Arthur swore that he too was going insane. Alfred seemed to take this as a hint and started to toy with the nipple, smiling almost mischievously at the noises Arthur started to make.

"You're getting pretty loud aren't you, Artie?" Alfred laughs. "Do I need to slow down?"

"No!" Arthur squeaks and suddenly his arms seized Alfred's as if he'd leave at any moment, leaving Arthur with all of this sexual traction.

Alfred gave a snort before laughing rather loudly. "Okay, geez. I get it." He grinned cheekily. "You must really like this, don't you?"

Arthur glared, sweat forming on his brow. "I don't! Stop being a tea-" He yelped when Alfred put his mouth on Arthur's nipple and licked it. "A-Alfred!! S-stop it!"

Alfred ignored him and began to suck on it, nipping it and swirling his tongue around it. Arthur moaned loudly and started muttering uncontrollably. He could feel Alfred's heavy weight above him, the pressure of the other's cock pressing into his trousers, where his own was getting unbearably hard. "Alfred! Ah! Please! I c-can't-!"

Alfred released his now cherry red bud and wiped his mouth, the look giving Arthur more and more bursts of pleasure. Oh God, this was nothing like he imagined! It was so good! He no longer cared what or how, he just wanted Alfred to hurry up already!

"Alright. Umm…" He paused before releasing Arthur's hands and slowly sneaking them down Arthur's body. Arthur shivered and whimpered loudly, each touch making his cock twitch. They stopped at Arthur's jeans. "Mind if I take them off?"

In any other situation, Arthur would've simply snorted at how Alfred thought to ask. However, he obviously couldn't. Instead he nodded almost vigorously, pleased they were moving things along. Perhaps later he'd look back and feel humiliated about how he was losing his dignity like this, but he couldn't care right now. 

Alfred lifted Arthur's hips up and undid the fly, slowly pulling off the Brit's pants, revealing pale creamy thighs. Arthur felt his stomach tighten at the notion Alfred now had him nearly naked. He was staring right at his legs.

He smiled almost possessively as he threw the jeans off the bed, extending a hand to stoke Arthur's legs. "You're beautiful, Arthur." He murmured. Arthur felt a smile melt onto his face. Even compliments made him harder. He wanted release so badly.

"C-can we just h-hurry up, please? I can't hold it for much longer." Arthur almost pleaded, his legs closing in on themselves, anything to revive tension, anything to make the pleasure keep coming. 

"Oh Arthur, you're so hard already. Is that all for me?" He teased, his hand coming up to grasp the tent in his boxers. Arthur squealed quite pathetically, almost thrusting his hips back into the touch. He couldn't control himself anymore, not when it felt so good!

Alfred grabbed the hem of his boxers and in seconds, those were gone too, leaving a completely bare Arthur. Arthur writhed under Alfred's gaze. He wasn't the only one losing control; a second tent had pitched itself in Alfred's jeans, Alfred himself seeming to get quite riled up too.

He gently grabbed Arthur's cock, the Brit himself nearly shrieking in pleasure. Alfred seemed encouraged immensely by this, giving it a few pumps. Arthur's hands grasped desperately at Alfred's shoulders, almost clawing at them. "Alfred! P-Please! Just fuck me already!'

Alfred didn't respond, already reaching for his belt. In minutes he was bare too. Arthur's eyes flew involuntarily to Alfred's own cock. Bloody hell. It was huge! Arthur nearly got harder at the sight of it.

Alfred leaned over to the night desk and opened the first drawer, digging around in it. Out came a bottle of lube and condoms. Arthur's mind seemed to have skipped over that part, what a shame.

"You'll have to tell me when to stop. I don't want to hurt you." Alfred warns seriously before popping open the wrapping

"Yes, yes, of course." Arthur rolls his eyes. "We don't have all night, you know."

Alfred smiled nefariously. "Well, I better hurry then. Don't wanna leave my little babe unsatisfied."

"Babe? That's a new one." Arthur snorts. He already felt some tiny part of him protest, but all was forgotten when Alfred lifted Arthur's legs up.

"Ready?" Alfred said, giving Arthur one last look. Arthur slowly nodded, preparing himself for the pain of penetration.

Slowly, the first finger was pushed in and the Brit had to grit his teeth. It was a very unnatural feeling, it really did hurt. Honestly, the experiments he had done by himself felt like nothing, but this felt different. After a few seconds, the pain began to melt away, and pleasure took over. More than Arthur was used to feeling.

"Should I move?" Came Alfred's voice, patient, despite it all.

"Y-yeah. I'll be fine." Arthur reassured him, gripping Alfred's broad shoulders tightly. 

Soon the finger began to go in and out, stretching him slowly. It was slow, considering this was their first time and they were trying not to hurt one another. After a minute or two, a second finger was added, the other beginning to scissor him. Arthur began to make noises continuously again, losing control horribly fast. Why had he been such a coward about this before?

And then there was a third. Arthur nearly screamed, all care or dignity long forgotten. All he wanted now was release, and only Alfred could give it to him. "Fuck! A-Al! Please! Just do it already!"

Alfred smiled, sweat dripping down his brow. "Are you sure?"

"Y-Yes, Damm it! P-Please!"

Within seconds, the fingers were gone. Arthur whined in protest, hating the sudden feeling of emptiness until something larger was being pushed in.

Arthur yelled loudly, the pain was excruciating.  
He'd never had something so big inside him before. Arthur's nails dug into the back of Alfred's hands, almost going white from how hard he held on to them.

"Y-You're so tight…" Alfred groans, grasping the other almost just as tightly as he was. Arthur moaned as the pleasure began to melt discomfort, the pain leaving quickly. "A-Arthur!"

"A-Alfred. Please move." Arthur pleaded, trying to rut his hips back into Alfred.

"Y-yeah," Alfred says, and Arthur shivers and whimpers as Alfred slowly pulls out before thrusting back in, and Arthur moans from all of the white pleasure, knowing his time was coming.

"A-Alfred! I-I..I-I'm gonna-!" Arthur screams. He was a beginner, after all, there was only so much he could take before he uncontrollably released.

"Y-Yeah! Me too!" Alfred murmurs, continuing to thrust.

Suddenly a whole knot of pleasure burst as Alfred thrust into his prostate, and Arthur snapped, white-hot pleasure rushing through him as he came, liquid shooting out onto their stomachs. In seconds, Alfred came too, yelling Arthur's name.

They both sat there, breathing heavily. Arthur's mind was a blur. He felt so heavy and just amazing.

"You alright, Arthur?" Alfred asked, his voice barely above a whisper. He sounded just about as exhausted as Arthur felt.

"Y-yeah…" He answers, only now regaining his breath. "That was… I don't think I have the words."

"Was it good?" Alfred asked hopefully, leaning up just enough to look Arthur in the eye. Arthur smiled.

"Yes. It was nothing short of fantastic." Arthur said. 

"Awww, thanks." Alfred chuckles against Arthur, hugging him tighter.

Arthur opened his mouth to retort but suddenly remembered something. "What time is it?"

Alfred shifts just enough to look at the alarm clock on his desk. "It's almost eleven."

"We should get dressed. Your parents will get suspicious." Arthur said seriously. As much as he wanted to just lay there in Alfred's arms and forget the world existed, he didn't wish to have that conversation with his boyfriend's parents.

"Awww. Come on, we still have some time left.  
Can we just cuddle for a little while?"

Arthur huffs and glares at Alfred. He had no real argument. Cuddling with Alfred after sex sounded perfect actually. "If we get caught by your parents, it's not my fault."

"Yeah, whatever." He snuggles up and locks his arms tighter around Arthur. "Love you too Artie."

Arthur nods slowly as Alfred snuggles up against him. "Yeah, love you too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the longest one shot so far. What a surprise.


	5. Day Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha. Do you know how long I've wanted to do Nyo UsUk too? Gosh darn. I'm a bit OCD when it comes to writing, I always force myself to make one shots at least 2,000 words longs. Of course, i have no time to make sure every single one in this challenge is that long, so my nerves can rest easy in making these short.
> 
> Alice and Emily are the names I like for Nyo America and Nyo England. For Nyo America, that also can mean she asks people to call her by a nickname, which is Amelia or Amy, the other two most common names for Nyo America. And yeah, Francine is Nyo France. That's obvious. 
> 
> Great game, take a shot everytime i do a high school Au. Please don't do it, you'll get horribly drunk. XD

Day Five: Genderbend 

Alice hated Valentine's day. She hated the stupid holiday with every fiber of her being. It was nothing but a stupid commercial holiday meant to make more money, but the whole concept was just rubbish to her.

Yes, it was cute whenever some starstruck admirer would gift the other, or it would be, if Alice already knew it would be only weeks until they wouldn't dare speak to one another ever again. It didn't help much that she was the head of the student council and therefore could not ignore the holiday the way she wanted to.

Oh no, she was stuck organizing the dance and the week leading up to it, what with all of the fundraisers and selling tickets. She wouldn't dare let her hate of the holiday get in the way of her work, that would be irresponsible and just downright juvenile. 

Then, of course, Francine didn't make things any easier. While she would try to get precious work done, the stupid twat would either be downright frustrating or occupied with yet another one of her suitors who probably wasn't even allowed in the room.

"Francine, the dance is in two days, please stop talking about your boyfriend, I don't have time," Alice growled from across the room. What idiot thought it was a good idea to have her and the frog work together on so many things?

Francine sighed. "I wasn't talking about mine. If you'd bother to remember for once, I don't have one right now." Alice simply clicked her tongue and stared at the lists for the refreshments coming in tomorrow.

"I was only talking about who's going to the dance." Francine snorted, and Alice scrunched her nose in distaste.

"You know I don't care for gossip." Alice retorted. "And you do know that nobody has confirmed the beverages we ordered for the dance that, may I remind you, is in two days?"

"Oh, mon ami, you worry too much." Francine dismissed. She smiled, her face no doubt being flawless. She was nothing short of a homecoming queen. "Okay fine, would you at least like to know that I heard the football quarterback is going to ask out Emily today?"

Alice's hand froze. She felt horrible dread sink its teeth into her thoughts. She recovered quickly and simply readjusted her glasses. "Why should I care about that?"

"Don't play dumb, Alice dear," Francine smirks. "You and I both know you have a little crush on Emily Jones." 

Alice's cheeks went pink. She dropped her pen. "I-I, well, Yes! So?" She stutters pathetically, scowling at Francine. It was times like these that she regretted ever telling the Frenchwomen anything important. Especially her stupid crush on Jones. 

"Well, you should know that, right?" Francine asked. Suddenly she's concerned, and suddenly it's not like they had been bickering moments ago. Then there were these times when she didn't regret telling her, because sometimes she'd approach with utmost seriousness. "Surely it would be horrible if she says yes, oui?"

Alice hesitated. No, it would be devastating. Absolutely devastating. But would she admit that? Certainly not. She was Alice Kirkland, she didn't let such stupid things waste her time. Or at least, that's what she always told herself. "Yes. It would." She huffed. "But it's only logical. She'd probably be a lot happier with someone like him anyway."

"I doubt it, actually. She's always said she doesn't like jocks." Francine says, frowning. "Perhaps she would say no?"

There was that shining hope, yes. But Emily? A pretty popular cheerleader like her say no to such a person? Alice wasn't stupid, she knew a low chance when she saw one. "Francine, surely you're smart enough to know she won't."

"I am smart enough. I'm just not as stubborn as you." Francine counters. "I don't deny every ray of hope that comes along."

Because Francine wasn't so much of a fool that she'd fall in love with somebody she knew perfectly well she had absolutely zero chance with, Alice's mind provided. She didn't say that, however, instead, she tried to cover up her growing frustration with the other by feigning returning to her work. "There is no hope. Emily is straight."

"You don't know that." Francine insists.

"You can tell me with absolute certainty that Emily would date a girl if one asked her?" Alice snaps, dropping her pen once again. She was one who could boast about a vast wealth of patience, but there was only so much she could take, especially from the likes of the frog.

"Non, I cannot. But neither can you." Francine said, adjusting the huge bun in her hair. She straightened her equally high skirt and got up. "I have someone where to be. Lucille wanted to meet me during lunch. I trust you can handle the rest all by yourself?"

Alice gave a defeated sigh. "Not like it'll be much of a change. You were barely even doing anything to begin with, you lazy twat."

"So mean." Francine comments, giving a dramatic pout. "I wish you the best of luck with your cheerleader bride." She winks before leaving, her heels clicking on the tile floor in her wake.

Alice scowled after her, glad to see her go. She looked back down. All that was left was her and the principal's signatures. Good, then she could leave. There was still a good twenty minutes before the lunch period ended, plenty of time to visit the library for that textbook she needed.

She got up and grabbed her things, her mood altogether sour. She hated thinking about Emily, even though she thought of her every day. She hated that she had fallen in love with Emily, and how she had no choice but to bear with it until either she graduated or got over it, because in all honesty, who in their right mind would date Alice?

______________

Alice gave another glance in distaste at the clock on the other side of the hall. The principal was such a talkative individual. Now all of her precious time was gone, leaving only minutes until the bell rang. Maybe she should just go to her next class.

"Hey! Wait!"

Alice froze in place. Bloody hell, she knew that voice. She turned around only to snap back, not daring to meet those bright blue eyes. Surely she wasn't calling out to her. No way. She began walking in a random direction, certain there was just someone behind her.

"Hey, don't you have ears?" Emily complained, grabbing Alice's shoulder. Alice's heart jumped in her throat as she was forced to face her. She couldn't believe this. She widened her eyes in surprise as her eyes met with Emily, dazzling and gorgeous like always. Why in the world would Emily want to talk to her?

"Wow, you haven't even said anything yet," Emily commented. Alice blushed as the complete dork of an American leaned down to her level. "Am I that annoying to you?" She pouted.

"N-No!" Alice answers way too quickly, and she can feel her stomach butterflies get faster, feel her face get warmer as it flushed pink. Why did the stupid girl do this to her? This was completely humiliating!!

"Oh." Emily smiles. It's a big bright smile, made all the more charming by the pale lipstick she wore. Alice never once liked any girls who thought it was appropriate to wear makeup to school, but she couldn't help it when it came to Emily. "I wanted to ask you something."

Alice's heart sped up to an unrealistic amount. What? This was not happening! Alice adjusted her glasses hastily in distraction. "Er, y-yes. What can I do for you?" Perhaps it was a random question that had something to do with her student council duties. Yes, it had to be that. It was only a coincidence that Emily was talking to her. She should've known.

"Okay. So….I was wondering…" Was Emily nervous? No. Certainly not. Alice swore she was finally going insane. "I was wondering if you'd like to go to the sweetheart dance with me?"

Alice blinked. Surely she heard that wrong. "C-Come again?"

"Do you wanna go to the sweetheart dance with me?" Emily repeated. She grinned hopefully, stuffing her hands inside her cheerleader jacket.

"I-I…" Alice stuttered. No. This was too good to be true. Emily was asking her out? "Is this a prank?"

Emily frowned. "What?"

"Is this a joke?" Alice repeated, hiding her true emotions behind suspicion. She couldn't get her hopes up. Why on earth would someone like Emily want to go to a school dance with Alice of all people? Things like that didn't just happen!

"A joke?" Emily repeats. Then she laughs. It's one that makes Alice's thoughts vibrate with admiration and fear. "Alice, do you think I'd be mean to you like that? What kind of person does that?"

Alice could think of a few people. A lot of people hated her after all. "W-Why else would you be asking me?" She blurts, realizing all too quickly that what she just said could hurt the other's feelings. She looked down at her plaid socks instead in embarrassment, too afraid to look her in the eye.

Emily laughs again. "Uh, because I like you? Duh!" She snorts in laughter once more and Alice nearly smiles, the cheerleader's contagious laughs chipping away at her personal barriers.

"I'm sorry," Alice mutters. "It's just that-"

"Nah, I get it." Emily says, waving her hand. They were perfect, just like a cheerleader star's should be, bright red nails and all. "We haven't talked before have we? This is kinda out of nowhere, I know, but the dance is in two days. What else am I supposed to do?"

Alice nods carefully. "B-But what happened to that football quarterback?" Alice protests weakly, still in major disbelief. Any moment Emily's friendly smile could be replaced by one of mocking and cruel laughter. "Allen or whatever his name is?"

"Alfred." Emily corrects, smirking. "Yeah, he asked me. But I said no. I don't like guys." She shrugs in distaste, and Alice feels her arguments dwindling. Emily Jones really was asking her out. Bloody hell. Emily Jones wanted to date her. Just the thought made Alice want to hurl and simply just smile with happiness. "So how about it? Do you wanna go out with me then?"

Alice hesitates before finally smiling. "Y-yeah. I'd like that." She truly would. This was something she had only imagined in her dreams. She could picture the look of smug amusement on Francine's face.

Emily beams. "Awesome. Should we exchange numbers?"


	6. Day Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, apparently updates weren't showing up on the top page because I wasn't changing the date everytime I posted a new chapter. How weird. I don't like that. :/

Day Six: Glasses

Alfred thought Arthur Kirkland looked positively breathtaking in glasses.

No, he wasn't stalking him. Heroes don't stalk people. He was...people watching. He had a final test coming up in his bionic engineering class and needed to study. If he wanted to become a doctor, he couldn't fail tests.

It wasn't his fault Arthur also happened to be the student librarian, of whom's shifts always lined up perfectly with his "study hours." It wasn't his fault he only just now really needed to study, despite the fact he'd been visiting the library like this for almost half a year.

However, Arthur had only just now gotten reading glasses. Alfred had noticed them immediately. Oh God, those specs made him even sexier than before. He almost couldn't tear his eyes away. Those red frames contrasted with his green eyes perfectly, making them look sharper. It gave him an overall look of a Goddamn Adonis.

And as he watched Arthur from afar, something nagged at him. He really wanted to ask him out. What was stopping him? Well, the fear of rejection, obviously. What if Arthur already had a lover? What if he didn't like guys? What if he just didn't like Alfred? It scared him to death. 

He'd never been scared of rejection before. It never held him back, back in his high school days. Of course, those days he'd mostly only asked girls, so half the risk was gone, but even then. Asking out a guy had never scared him like this before. Why was Arthur so different?

He couldn't just keep watching him like this though. He was tired of it. He felt too awkward sitting at a table pretending to study every day. He wanted the chance to at least take Kirkland out on one date. Even if it was just one.

Alfred swallowed and looked up. Arthur was at the desk, clearly occupied. What should he say though? What if he messed up and ended up looking like an idiot? That would be horrible. But then again, guilt would eat him alive if he didn't do it while he still had the chance.

He checked his watch. Perfect. The library was closing soon. Convenient cover exit. It was now or never. Or, well, it was now or just go home in sad defeat. Either way, Alfred wanted to make sure it'll be the former. 

He slowly got up and grabbed his things, his brain going a million miles per hour. Oh God was he really doing this? He was insane! This was completely insane!

"Hi." 

Arthur looks up, then his eyes land on his empty hands. Alfred realizes it must be weird to be going to the front desk without a book. It's okay, Alfred. You can do this.

"Can I help you?" He asks, and Alfred finds his heart beats faster. God, that beautiful British accent got him every time.

"Ummm…" He thinks of something to say. "I can't find a book I want to check out. Can I check you out instead?"

Arthur raises one of his enormous eyebrows, and Alfred felt his mind implode. God! Stupid! Did he seriously just say some stupid pick up line? He was usually better than this!

Then the librarian smirks. "Took you long enough. I was wondering how long it was going to take you to get the courage to finally ask me out."

Wait, what? "Huh…?" Alfred blurts, frowning.

"You don't think I didn't see you watching me like some sort of pup?" Arthur said, chuckling. Alfred's brain stops. Oh no, he knew?! All of this time and he'd noticed him stalking him like a fool?! Oh God, he was going to say no. He was doomed. Say something!

"I-I…" He swallows, all of his confidence gone. "I-I'm sorry. I guess you're kinda creeped out, aren't you?"

"No, I'm not." Arthur gets up and smiles. "I think I'd like to take you up on that offer, though."

Alfred feels a burst of happiness. It's immense. "Wait, really? You'd go out with me?"

"I've thought a lot about this, and yes, I would think that would be lovely." Arthur said, adjusting those glasses of his. God, he looked even sexier up close.

Alfred grins. He couldn't believe it. He had the honor of talking Arthur Kirkland out. "You have no idea how happy this makes me."

Arthur flusters up, and Alfred suddenly decides that he'd do everything in his power to see that adorable face of his as much as possible. "I think I have some idea."


	7. Day Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut warning.

Day Seven: Masturbation.

Alfred sighed with exaggerated tiredness as he flopped down on his bed.

God, Arthur was unbelievable sometimes. How did they keep arguing like this? It was getting to be almost too much for him. He wasn't always trying to get the Brit angry at him, he just does.

Arthur, his short-tempered grumpy roommate who everybody always guessed was his mortal enemy or something. And yes, Alfred considered it so. Every good hero needed one. He didn't like coming home from stressful science classes to the ticking bomb that was his British roommate. He nearly considered walking up to the main offices and demanding a replacement.

But no. There was always one thing keeping him back.

Alfred growled softly in frustration before slowly inching his hand down to his pants. He knew he would be home alone for at least an hour or two since Arthur had an extra class on this day. Perhaps he could just get some relief, right?

He sighed involuntarily as his hand snaked over the growing bulge in his jeans. Most did think he hated Arthur, and yes he did. And this was why. It drew him absolutely crazy. Why in the world should he be attracted to that lame jerk? It was a mystery no one would understand if he told them.

He slowly undid his pants and freed his erection, half-mast already. He took it in his hand and gave it a few pumps, curling up into the pillows as he did. He couldn't go a week without ending up like this, cock in hand. Just imagining that silver accented tone in his ear made him shiver.

He moaned, the friction feeling so unbearably good. He imagined it was Arthur's hand there, Arthur coaxing him into his climax. He bit his lip hard as the image came into his mind, something he longed for desperately.

Somewhere in his mind, he thought this was wrong. He shouldn't be using unknowing Arthur to jerk off, and he shouldn't be reduced to this when thinking of him. He should just watch some porn or something. But he couldn't. It was made extremely hard when he lived under the same roof as him.

"A-Arthur……" He moaned quietly, bucking his hips back into his hand. Oh, how he wished that really was Arthur's hand. He wanted to ask him out, to try to make a move on him, yes, but could he really? He didn't hate Arthur, but certainly, Arthur hated him. There was no way he could.

He moaned the other's name again, getting louder and harder by the minute. Sweat began to cloud his glasses as he kept going, imaging those gorgeous green eyes that belonged to Arthur staring him down, his beautiful fair skin against his. Alfred whimpered and moaned at the mere thought. 

He nearly yelled Arthur's name as he finally came, white liquid shooting into his hand. He collapsed against his pillow, feeling immeasurable white-hot pleasure course through him. He breathed heavily for a few minutes, trying to regain control. He glanced down at the mess in his hand and groaned.

He was a mess. A royal mess. Surely he should not allow this to continue. This was bonkers. He had to do something. But what? Surely he couldn't just surprise Arthur with roses and ask him out? The Brit hated his ass! 

Then again, what else could he do? He swore he'd go insane if this were to go on for any longer. Masturbation was great and all, but these very same thoughts would always haunt him afterward. He needed to stop sitting around and finally do something.

He froze as he heard the door being opened. God, Arthur was home. He quickly fixed his pants again and got up to go hide in the bathroom. He needed to clean up before the other caught wind of what happened.

Someday, Alfred will ask Arthur out. One way or another.


	8. Day Eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cardverse. Oh, Cardverse.  
I had a different idea for this, but the it grew too large, so now it gets it's own one shot.

Day Eight: Royalty

"Surely you can't be that overworked." The snooty councilman says, glaring at Arthur.

"I am, believe it or not." Arthur retorts, keeping his composure. Despite his status as Queen, he was a gentleman. "While I would like to say that I don't let human weakness get to me, I do have to take up the entirety of both my work and our absent King's work."

The man snorts, his facial hair almost fluttering as he does. "And yet you've done more than anyone at the throne has done in decades. It's thanks to you our empire stretches halfway across the world now."

Arthur detects a hint of pride in that voice of his. "Yes, but it would be nice to have a King to make our kingdom whole again." Arthur was more than capable of running the world's most powerful nation on his own, but the clocks existed to choose rulers for reason.

"It's been five years. Surely the clocks will wake up soon. Of course, I won't doubt their reliability, but surely they can't be dormant for much longer."

Arthur snorts. He almost wants to remind this pompous noble that the clocks once stalled on picking a new Jack for a whole forty years, but he instead strains his lips into a thin line. His patience was getting the better of him. "I would like to retire if you don't mind. I have a lot to get to tomorrow. "

He nods in respect, respect all nobles always showed the Queen, whether they agreed with him or not. He was chosen by the gods after all, and their judgment was always good.

The door swings shut, and Arthur is left alone in his chambers, a desk full of paperwork and a body sore from exhaustion. The large grandfather clock in the corner of the room ticks on, the only noise in the room.

Arthur was a very prideful individual. He would love to say his kingdom didn't need a King, but that wasn't how it worked. Spades wasn't complete without a full house of rulers, and without one, it would never reach its full potential. And more so, a Queen wasn't complete without their King. They were bound by destiny after all.

Arthur sat back down, already reaching for another paper. Sooner or later a servant or perhaps the Jack will barge in and insist he get a healthy amount of sleep, but until then he could work as much as he pleased.

There is one other thing he didn't ever mention to others. To him, the idea of finding his destined partner was something wondrous. A person destined to work with him, destined to stay at his side forever, destined to love and cherish him as he would, it sounded like heaven. Especially after all of this becoming Queen stuff had forced him to leave Francis behind.

No, don't think. Get work done. You have a kingdom to run. You can dwell about being lonely later. Arthur shook his head at himself and grabbed a quill. An hour or so of bliss and work. Exactly what he needed. 

After about an hour or so, a large mass of papers piles had accumulated around him, surrounding him like some sort of barricade. This was a normal occurrence for the helpless workaholic whose name was Arthur, after all, there was no one around to stop him. Not yet anyway.

A knock sounded off in the room and Arthur nearly groaned. Splendid isolation shattered. Three knocks, that meant it was a servant. Was it that time already?

"Come in." He said, trying to rapidly jot down at least one more note. He hissed, realizing he was getting ink everywhere

The door opened, and a young servant walked in, carrying a tray of tea. Arthur scowls at his golden smile. Why do they always send him?

"Good Evening, your Highness," Alfred says brightly, flashing a smile that only makes Arthur want to glare at him more. "I brought you your tea. The servants say you always like a cup of tea before bed."

"Yes. Precisely. Set it down on my desk. I'm working." Arthur said tersely, waving his not writing hand at him. It was tea time, wasn't it? He usually wasn't this rude to his servants, just Alfred. Alfred was annoying. And gorgeous, but that was a problem he refused to face.

Alfred sets it down right next to an empty space. Arthur always kept that section of the desk empty, for it was where the King's clock lay. He kept it right where he could see it, waiting for the day it would wake up and show all who looked where their new King was.

"Seriously, you should get to sleep." Alfred reasons, handing an expensive tea cup to him. In all honesty, Arthur had no idea why someone hired Alfred. He was so clumsy. 

"Certainly not, there's still a lot to be done. I won't waste much time." Arthur dismisses, turning the page, taking the tea as he did. It's not just that he needed to work, it was also the fact that he didn't want to look at Alfred. He couldn't waste time swooning over his servant. There was a King waiting out there for him after all.

"But that's not healthy, your grace," Alfred said, frowning. "If I don't make you do go to bed, some other servant will. Or Yao." 

Arthur frowns at his tea, not taking what Alfred said into consideration at all. He places it back on the tray in distaste. "It needs more milk." He comments, turning another page.

"Oh, right," Alfred says obediently, rushing to do what Arthur asks. He's young and innocent, so naturally, not a single thought runs in his mind as to why he shouldn't do what his queen asks.

A loud crash came, and Alfred swore. Arthur leaps from his chair, utter frustration beginning to thrive as his eyes landed on the destroyed tea set.

"You bloody oaf! Be more careful!" Arthur shouts, his temper getting the better of him. All of this work and stress and his stupid servant manages to not only spill tea but ruin a perfectly good tea set? "Honestly, you're a royal servant for goodness sake! Act like one!!"

"I-I'm sorry!" Poor Alfred said, hands up to defend himself. "It's just that ...Your pocket watch thing! It touched me and…"

Arthur growled as his eyes found what Alfred had been talking about. He stopped. The pocket watch was still right where he left it, but still was...glowing. 

Unreasonable anger forgotten, Arthur approaches the magic heirloom. It had begun to glow in the Spades's uniform blue, it's hands all pointing in one direction. Arthur's heart jumped in his throat. This was ...It couldn't be….

"Y-Your grace?" Alfred said nervously, very confused as Arthur gently picked up the pocket watch. The Queen ignored him, too astounded to care. The clocks had woken up! They had chosen somebody!

Arthur turned around slowly, eyes locked with the watch. Slowly, the hands adjusted, spinning like a compass to point to the location of the chosen one. It glowed brighter, and Arthur's eyes flew up. No…..

"What's it doing?" Alfred asked curiously, childishly amazed by the display of magic. Arthur opens his mouth, but finds the words caught up in his throat. No…. It can't be….

"It's a magic heirloom connected to the great clocks." Arthur murmurs slowly, mind in complete disarray. "It chooses Spade's kings. When it chooses it's next King, it glows and it's hands points to the exact location of our new ruler."

Alfred seems to not comprehend any of this, but nods anyway. "So, who did it choose?"  
He asks, curiosity and wonder replacing his fear.

"I'm standing right in front of him."


	9. Day Nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My OCD is kicking back in, I'm way too self conscious about how short these are 😂

Day Nine: Sickness

Arthur had always been a rather stubborn individual.

He was quite infamous for it, even to those who loved him most. If anything, it was even more of a problem to those who loved him most. Or Alfred thought so.

His point could only be proven all the more when Arthur had woken up today. They usually wake up at the same time on their workdays, with Alfred attempting sleeping in a massive amount when he didn't have to work, only to be dragged out of bed by Arthur.

The first red flag had been how much time the Brit spent in the bathroom, and then how his appetite was gone almost completely. Alfred really wasn't that much of an observer, he knew, but he had learned to know how to observe when it came to Arthur.

Which was why Alfred had asked with concern whether or not Arthur was sick.

And of course, Arthur had glared at him and hissed a short no, which only made Alfred more worried. The more aggressively Arthur acted, the worse it was. And then, five minutes before the other was supposed to leave for work, he caught Arthur coughing up his breakfast into the toilet.

Alfred didn't know what could possibly make Arthur think it was okay to overwork himself. He could take a guess and say it came from growing up in a household with five siblings, but all the same. He worried all the time Arthur would end up seriously hurting himself from overworking himself to the bone. That's why Alfred was there. Alfred was his hero.

Which was why Alfred demanded that Arthur called in sick and got some rest.

Arthur had immediately gotten mad at him, denying Alfred's accusations, unable to accept he would miss a full day of work. But in the end, Alfred always won. He never knew why, but Arthur always seemed powerless against him.

So after thirty minutes of fuss, Arthur was once again in bed, and Alfred was happily inclined to make sure he would get some rest.  
Arthur didn't seem happy in the slightest about it, but sooner or later he began to stop fighting.

Honestly, Arthur was lucky he had Alfred. Alfred thought something along the lines of this as he fixed up a bowl of soup and a nice hot cup of tea. Despite Arthur's complaints, Alfred did indeed know how to make tea. He didn't know about all of these precise measurements and "letting it steep", but he liked to think it was decent.

He at least knew from Kiku that herbal tea was good for sick people, and after shifting through Arthur's tea box collection, he found what he was looking for. In any other occasion, he would've grabbed the first box with the words herbal tea on it, but he was careful. He was a hero, he couldn't fool around while his beloved darling was sick. 

Once he was done, he was met by a pleasant surprise. The Brit was already fast asleep. It was weird, considering he had been stiff upright against the pillows and grumbling. This was a side of Arthur that only made Alfred think he was all the more adorable. How he always denied affection only to simply soak it all up in the end.

So instead, he stuck the meal in the microwave and decided to wait until noon to wake him up. Sleep was needed to recover right? Maybe he should call Matthew.

Nah. He could do this by himself. He was Arthur's hero after all. He always would be. Because he loved him. With all of his heart. 

Arthur got sick more often than Alfred. Alfred had been exposed to everything germ related when he was a child, thanks to his carelessness. His immune system was a lot stronger than Arthur's. On some days, something really bad would hit him hard, and he would be sick for almost weeks

When this happened, Arthur would turn into an almost mother hen, nearly spoiling him. Alfred loved this side of Arthur. He loved any part of Arthur, but he was adorable like this. It showed off how much he truly loved Alfred.


	10. Chapter Ten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut warning. Yeah, you know the drill.  
This might just be the shortest one yet. And they probably won't be as short from now on, but we'll see.

Day Ten: Blowjobs

Alfred smirked as Arthur lowered himself on his knees, Alfred above him sitting on the bed, both equally bare.

They were still in the foreplay of it, and Alfred had requested for Arthur to suck him off. He really rather liked it when Arthur sucked him off. In the years they had been dating, Alfred had found out how much of submissive little thing Arthur could be if the time was right. 

The other gently grabbed Alfred's growing erection, rubbing it a few times before leaning it and giving it a long lick. The warm organ on his cock made Alfred moan, the first moan of the night. Without warning, he fisted his hands into Arthur's hair. 

"Well, what are you waiting for?" He teases playfully, smirking down at Arthur. He had begun to like being dominating as well. He felt he could never make it as hot as Arthur could, but seeing Arthur being such a submissive slut was so addictingly good to him.

The other took only a second more of hesitation before enveloping Alfred's erection in his mouth, taking in as much as he could. Alfred smirked wider, sighing in deep content as Arthur began to run his tongue against the underside, bobbing his head ever so slightly.

He heard Arthur moan against his cock as Alfred's hands grabbed at the roots of his hair, beginning to pull without refrain. He knew the Brit could take it. 

"You're so good at this." Alfred murmured, his voice heavy with lust. He watched the other continue to suck him off, the pleasure building up more and more by the second. He fought to keep his moans at a minimum, but it was no easy feat. Arthur was indeed good at what he was doing.

Suddenly, Alfred yanked, and Arthur gagged in surprise. Alfred had forced his entire cock down his throat, unable to restrain himself. He knew he could take it, he'd done this many times before. He had no worries choking the other, it only made things even more enjoyable.

"Such a good little slut," Alfred said, smirking again as Arthur kept going, his own cock getting harder and harder. He'd have to remember to reward him for this. Well, he still had his own climax to take care of.

He pulled on Arthur's golden locks, ignoring how the Brit reacted. He took matters into his own hands, moving the other's head for his own pleasure. He was beginning to get close.

"Arthur, I'm coming" He warned quietly, and he saw Arthur's cock twitch. Suddenly he did come, releasing into Arthur's waiting mouth. Like he had done many times before, he didn't stop until he swallowed every drop. He pulled away and panted heavily, hurriedly wiping his mouth.

"You alright there, sweetheart?" Alfred asks, smiling as Arthur started to regain his breath.

"Y-yeah," Arthur whispers, his voice almost hoarse. It made Alfred smile to see his lover like this, exhausted from pleasuring him. "Was that good?"

"Wonderful," Alfred said, patting his head. "Now how about we move things along?"


	11. Day Eleven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be moving in, but then it changed to cats halfway through. 
> 
> Multi-chapter drafts are a pain in the ass.

Day Eleven: Moving In Together

___________

Arthur once was scared that one day Alfred would leave him.

What it they didn't get into the same university and Alfred simply left him in the dust? Lots of high school relationships didn't last past high school anyway. What if Alfred stopped liking him? Or what if some beautiful perfect bud sweeps him away?

It didn't matter what Alfred told him, he was paranoid. He worried a lot. He loved Alfred with all of his heart and he was dead terrified it wouldn't last past high school.

But then Alfred asked to be roommates.

Two days after high school graduation, on a rather expensive date(they were still celebrating), Alfred mentions to Arthur how he was looking at apartments at the university in California, and suggested that they both buy one, since the prices were so high.

It made Arthur incredibly happy, Alfred wanting to live with him. And he was still incredibly enlightened by it, two months later when they were actually in Berkley, California, unloading boxes into their new apartment.

He never once doubted living with him. He loved Alfred and though he would not admit it, he had no idea what he'd do without him. Even if California was terrible and terribly American and Arthur partly wished he had some more money to go to university in London, but then Alfred wouldn't be there.

And for the first three weeks, everything was smooth. Alfred seemed to have problems keeping up a healthy sleep schedule, and he seemed pretty annoyed that Arthur's small tea army took up a good amount of space in the cupboards, but it wasn't anything much different from before.

And then, five days after the school term started, Arthur comes home to find a box of cats on the living room floor.

"What the absolute bloody hell were you thinking!?" Arthur yells, staring in shock at the living creatures in his- their - house.

"Artie! Please just let me explain! They were out in the streets dying! I couldn't just leave them like that!" Alfred protests, laughing guiltily, not comprehending that he had now just put the two of them in charge of two living beings. 

"You twat! That's what animal shelters are for! We only just moved in! We can't take care of them now!" Arthur shouts, and his temper and worries will only be solved if he shouts some more because goddammit, Alfred did some really stupid things without thinking. 

"I know…." And there's that infamous expression of a kicked puppy. "But I couldn't just take them to some lonely shelter! Come on, they're so cute! You've told me you miss having cats."

Arthur pinches his brow and stares some more at the pair of cats staring up at him. They did look very much like they had just spent their lives on the streets. Arthur sighs and scowls at Alfred. "We planned on doing something like this for a birthday or something. Not when we only just moved in and need to be using the money to buy bloody furniture!"

"Well yeah! But your birthday's in April! These little balls of sunshine can't stay on the streets that long!" And Arthur's heart drops as the puppy dog eyes are pulled out on him. Oh, goddammit! "Come on, Arthur." He smiles innocently. "I'm getting attached to them already."

"Of course you are." Arthur sighs. He's finding he's lost any proper argument. And then the Scottish fold simply stares and Arthur feels himself already getting attached too. He wasn't a sentimental type, but cats had a special place in his heart. "Fine. I suppose you win. But your arse gets the honor of buying everything."

"I knew you'd come through! You're not cold-hearted enough to leave these angels on the streets!" Alfred gives a childish whoop of happiness and reaches for the biggest one, a white Maine coon. "Wanna name this one?" He says, trying with fail to pick him up. It growls at him and balls up in the corner, where the Scottish fold has retreated. 

"Don't intrude upon them, cats don't take well to strangers." He scolds, thinking this is hardly the time to be naming them. He sits down the couch with Alfred. "You do realize our microwave is still busted."

"You said that was a good thing. Or whatever, now I won't try to microwave tea or whatever you say." He rolls his eyes and gives another attempt at getting the cats to approach him, again with fail.

"Yes, but I would like to have a microwave, as it is one of the most basic appliances in a house." Arthur says snarkily, fighting to keep a straight face as Alfred continues playing with their new pets. Oh god, pets. This was the last thing they needed right now.

"Whatever! Do you want to name them or not?" He whines, pouting at the Brit.

Arthur huffs and considers the main coon, a rather large cat with black markings. "The white one should be Winston."

"Winston?"

"Winston. He looks like he has glasses with the little black markings." Arthur justifies.

"Isn't he that one British guy?" Alfred asks, a little confused.

"Yes. Winston Churchill was famous for his efficiency as Britain's leader during World War two." He clarifies, rolling his eyes about Alfred's utter lack of world history knowledge.

"Oh. Are you sure it's a boy?"

"Want to check?" Arthur asked, smirking.

"Ah, no. We can let the vet do that." Alfred laughs. "Can I name the orange one Rose?"

"Scottish fold, you prat." He takes a look at the cat, it's baggy little ears and green eyes. "And yes, Rose sounds nice." Then he glares at Alfred. "Still, though. No more cats, or surprises. I mean it."

"Ah, yeah. Sorry, Artie." Alfred laughs. "You're not mad anymore are you?"

"Honestly? They're adorable little buggers." Arthur admits, smiling. "How much longer do you plan to keep them in that dreadful box?"

"They won't come out. I was thinking of putting some blankets in there." He smiles. "You gotta earn a cat's love. Right?"

"You're still in charge of buying everything."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Winston and Rose, if you can't guess, are both references to WW2, with old Chruchill being said in the chapter, while Rose is short for Rosevelt, like Franklin Rosevelt.


	12. Day Twelve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The inspiration came from a Sherlock fanfic. Sherlock is one of my biggest obsessions, good Jesus.

Day 12: Drawing

____________

Arthur stared at his brand new empty sketchbook. Whenever he was in a creative slump, he always bought one. He didn't know why, considering a good, nice high-quality one was something like fifteen dollars, but it gave him a confidence boost to leave mistakes behind.

The professor was late. God, this was annoying! He wanted his first page to be professional! Others would see it! Bollocks, his professors back in Manchester were never late. Bloody Americans.

He had been having an artist's block lately. He would put his pencil to the paper and always come up with either nothing or a bunch of paper in a rubbish bin. He couldn't think of anything worth while and if he didn't fix his act he was going to lose money.

He hadn't quite gotten to the novelist dream career yet, he still had a major to get, but his art was still a good half of his monthly income and he already had to cut money out of his lunches this week to pay for cat food. But he couldn't think of anything that didn't belong in the rubbish-

The door at the end of the crowded art classroom opened, and the professor shuffled in accompanied by another, unfamiliar stranger. Arthur stared. Was that what kept her up? Honestly.

Arthur stared. He had an unusually bright set of eyes. They were so blue...had he ever seen that shade of blue? And that face of his…..

"Attention, students." The professor rapped her ruler against her desk. She was a very old-fashioned lady. "We are starting our studies of the human body, so I've brought in one of your fellow students who was so kind to volunteer to model for us."

Arthur stares. He was going to model? Him? He didn't look the type to volunteer for such things. He gave the rows of students a bright smile, and Arthur felt his stomach jump. He was supposed to draw him?

Arthur felt his pencil hand twitch. Suddenly he had an idea.

____________

He didn't remember the last time his left hand got so sore.

It was a week into the unit, and Arthur had been doing much more drawing than his classes or work required. He couldn't help it, he had inspiration. And he didn't understand it in the slightest. It wasn't normal.

Was it normal to want to draw a complete stranger so much?

Well, he wasn't much of a stranger. He knew his name. Alfred Jones. It wasn't like he burned that fact into his memory or anything. Or spent hours drawing him even when it wasn't part of his assignment.

No, he thought as he forced himself to draw the women model instead for once. He had been ignoring the poor girl until now after all. He wasn't going to let this infuriation go anywhere. He was definitely not Alfred's type. A bloke like that would have some hot blondie over his shoulder, guy or girl. He wasn't one of those types, he didn't even stand out. He was just an art nerd too focused on his studies to interest anyone.

If only he was allowed to think that in peace.

He swore he had caught Alfred staring at him. No. Wait, it couldn't of been him. There were lots of students in his general area. It was not him. The chap wasn't even allowed to move, certainly it was only a need, not a want. Surely.

If Arthur wasn't developing a crush on him, he would have dismissed this easily. But no, now it lingered as an unwanted thought at the very forefront of his mind every minute of the day. No, he was better than this. He didn't have a chance with Alfred, he needed to get over this. Once this bloody unit was over, Arthur was going to burn this sketchbook. Yes.

He felt his stomach yell no at that, and it wasn't easy to ignore. He didn't want to burn any of them, he wanted to cherish them. The person he was drawing was an Adonis for goodness sake!

"You're really good at this."

Arthur jumps, his pencil streaking across the paper in its way down. He turns around, and his stomach makes a horrible flip as his eyes meet none other than Alfred Jones's.

He laughs. It's a bright, loud, innocent laugh. "Sorry! I didn't mean to scare you! You looked so focused!"

Arthur blushes bright red, not believing his eyes. Why was Alfred talking to him? "Er, thank you. Surely that's only because it's you."

"What? Pffft, Nah. Well, okay sure, but it's still, like, really good!" Alfred flashes a big bright smile. "It's super great. I haven't seen anything this good from anyone in this class."

The butterflies in his stomach danced around as if in a drunken rage. He coughs, hoping Alfred doesn't know a blushing face when he sees one. "T-Thank you. I appreciate that. Surely you must be exaggerating-"

"No, I'm not. Dude, accept the compliment. It's some great stuff." Alfred laughs, and Arthur can't stop himself from smiling. He decides then that Alfred has a really contagious laugh. And that it's going to be his undoing.

"Is that all?" He asked, suddenly realizing that must be it. Why else would Alfred talk to him. He feels his heart sink, knowing he'd pay anything to make this conversation last.

"Ah! No" Alfred exclaims, as if he only just now remembered. What a child he is, Arthur thought as the American dug around in his jacket pockets. He pulled out a haphazardly folded piece of paper and placed it on top of Arthur's sketchbook.

"Here. Give it back to me at the end of class, 'kay?" He winks and then he walks off without a word.

Arthur furrows his brow in confusion as he stares at the folded paper, his stomach trying to jump up his throat. Passing notes? What was this, secondary school?

Putting that thought aside, he gently grabs the paper and unfolds it. His brows furrowed in annoyance at the messy handwriting.

**Will you go out with me? Check yes or no.**

**(555 - 560 - 0006)**

Arthur stares. What….?

Bloody shit. Alfred was asking him out! It was a love note! He quickly realizes what's going on and nearly drops the paper. Alfred was asking him out?!

His eyes snap to where Alfred is, on break with the other models. He's chatting brightly, happy and upbeat. Arthur stares in disbelief. Alfred Jones wanted to ask him? But….

Alfred stops and catches Arthur's eye. He smirks up at Arthur, and the Brit is half compelled to stare back. He instead turns his head to the paper.

He hurriedly grabs his pencil, circling "yes" so quickly the led snaps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Manchester is a city located in Northern England, which is home to one of the most prestigious universities in Britain.
> 
> The fake number is a combination of fake number tropes from both America and Japan, so yes that is a fake number. Please don't try to call it. XD


	13. Day Thirteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some warning there's some more smut here. I totally could've done a seven minutes of heaven thing since this happens at a high school party, but i didn't like it. I have a huge hate for high school parties in general anyway.
> 
> This Jock Alfred x Punk Arthur.  
I've always imagined and drawn Arthur with red highlights rather than green ones. :P it's bright and loud and compliments his eyes better, and I feel it's just more him.

Day Thirteen- Party Sex

Alfred didn't know what he was doing here.

He was popular at school, so naturally, he got invited to a whole bunch of parties. Gilbert frequently threw a lot of parties, inviting Alfred to every single one. And Alfred had nothing against high school parties.

Except that Arthur was here.

He had caught several glimpses of the Brit already, dressed in his usual all-black attire and a black leather jacket. Suddenly this party had gotten a lot more nerve-wracking than Alfred was comfortable with.

He had a huge crush on Arthur, but of course, he was off-limits. Not because of maintaining popularity, god no. Popularity wasn't worth that, not in a million years. It was because Arthur would punch him in the face if he asked him out.

And Alfred wasn't into girls either, so high school parties weren't so much fun anymore. As he sat there on a lonely couch in the corner, all he thought about was Arthur. What was Arthur, the infamous rebel delinquent of the school doing here? He always told everyone he hated high school parties.

He sipped his punch and wrinkled his nose. God, someone spiked it. Maybe he should get out of here.

"Mind if I sit down?"

Alfred jumped. God! He knew that accent anywhere! He turned, and standing to his right was none other than the infamous Arthur Kirkland.

"Or are you drunk?" Arthur comments, smirking snarkily. Alfred hastily readjusts his glasses and scoots over, mumbling under his breath. 

God, he hated what Arthur did to him. He hated how he was met with the desire to kiss Alfred as hard as he could. He hated how just now, Arthur sitting down next to him caused his stomach to flip.

"Some party." He mutters, scowling at all the teenagers in front of him.

"I thought you didn't like high school parties." Alfred comments, trying his best to not let his inner emotions escape. He needed a beer.

"I don't." Arthur retorts with the click of the tongue. "Hell no, bloody Antonio forced me here. Bloody tomato freak."

"Oh. I don't really like them either." Alfred laughs nervously. He suddenly hated how much he wished this conversation would last as long as possible. "Too many boys and girls getting drunk and boning each other."

Arthur gives him a look. "The famous football jock Alfred Jones isn't into girls?" He snorts, apparently amused by such a thing.

"What's so funny?" Alfred says, cheeks going pink. Oh God, was the infamous Arthur Kirkland going to go homophobe on hi-

"Nothing of your concern. Only that it's funny. You popular jocks are usually the life of these parties. It's boring." 

"You think I'm boring?" Alfred accuses, a look of dramatic insult on his face. Suddenly he hates Arthur just a little more. And suddenly he wants to kiss that God awful sexy face even more. "I'm not just some stereotype!"

Arthur smirks and leans in on Alfred. The American swallows nervously. "Oh, really? What's your dream career?"

"Its-!" Alfred sputters. Arthur smirks wider.

"To be come a doctor of some sort?" Arthur snickers, and Alfred's stomach makes an escape attempt up his throat. God, he wanted to print that look Arthur had on his eyelids. Upon seeing no comment, Arthur shakes his head. "Should've known. Just like your father, am I correct?"

"My father's a lawyer!" Alfred protests, anger building. If Arthur said one more word, he was going to knock those red highlights out of his hair. God, why was he thinking the opposite?! Stop it, stop it, stop it!!

"Ah, another highly credible ambition." Arthur tuants, the whole ordeal hilarious to him. "Tell me, does your mum gloat about you at work? Do you have a younger sibling that looks up to you?"

"Shut up, you jerk!" Alfred yells, growing red. He nearly spills the spiked punch on the ground, trying his best to keep from tackling the damm Brit to the ground. "You can't just-"

"You want to prove it to me?" Arthur raises an eyebrow. Alfred stops, his mind going millions of hours a minute. 

"What do you mean?" Alfred asks. He glares. Oh how he hates, hates that smirk of his. Those gorgeous green eyes. His feminine curves. He glares harder. 

"Come with me then." Arthur stands, and Alfred sputters indignantly. "This party blows anyway. I'm done."

"Where are we going?" Alfred asks in slight confusion, clouded by anger and anxiety. His heart sped up as Arthur grabbed his wrist and led him through the crowd of teenagers. 

"You'll see," Arthur says, and he smirked to himself. Alfred swallowed again, his wrist burning to snap away from Arthur's warm hand, but he can't. Arthur was holding his hand. 

It turns out that somewhere was a deserted bedroom.

Arthur closes the door. He smirked, amused. "Alright. If you really are some unique little biscuit…" He folds his arms. "Then have sex with me."

Alfred's breath stops. "W-What?!" 

"You heard me." Arthur smiles and leans in on Alfred, only centimeters shorter. "If you really want to prove it to me, then don't be some sentimental sap and have sex with me. Right here, right now."

"W-what, but-" Alfred sputters, unable to believe what Arthur was saying. Have sex? Here?! With Arthur?! "But this place is crowded! People could-"

"If it makes you feel better, I'll lock the door." Arthur offers, holding a hand over his mouth to stifle chuckles. "What? You scared, Jones?"

"I-I…..I'm not scared!" Alfred protests, glaring at Arthur, curling his fists. He wanted to punch him so badly, he wanted to just...Oh god, surely he wasn't considering this. His stomach ties knots as the realization hit. He was. He was considering this.

"Prove it then," Arthur said, smiling wider. "What? Am I not your type? Or, wait, 'got some idea to save it for some true love?" He snickers. "How completely predictable."

"What are you playing at?" He bursts, taking a step back as Arthur is already reaching to lock the door.

"Well, fine. What if I told you that I would like nothing more than to have sex with you?" Arthur steps closer, and he's so close, so close Alfred could almost smell him. "I fancy you. Come on, Jones. Or am I not the kind of bloke you shoot for?"

Alfred opens his mouth, but no voice comes out. Arthur fancies him? Wait- "You're lying."

Arthur only shakes his head. "No. Do you really think I would just jump any stupid guy like this? Don't be an idiot, Jones." He stepped closer, and his hands grabbed Alfred's sports jacket. "Besides, don't think I don't know you want this too."

"W-What, how could you-"

"Come on, Jones." Arthur interrupts. "We don't have all night. Are we going to shag or not?" 

Alfred tries to speak but he can't. He felt lust peak as he started at Arthur's bright emerald eyes, clashing wildly with his hair. His eyes lower to his lips, glossy and oh so kissable. Alfred suddenly is met with the desire to kiss him.

And he does.

He grabs Arthur by the cheeks and roughly kisses him, full of lust and passion. He ignores Arthur's breath of surprise and goes harder, his hands fishing around in the punk's thick hair as the other hits the wall, looping his arms around Alfred's shoulders.

Arthur moans and Alfred bites his lip, forcing his mouth open. He goes in, their tongues immediately starting to battle each other. Alfred wins, and he explores Arthur's mouth, his mind still not believing it.

They break, and a thin trail of saliva connects their mouths. Arthur breathes heavily, staring up at Alfred. His eyes were full of lust, and it makes the American's pants feel tighter than normal. Arthur smiles. "I knew you'd come around."

Alfred stares, hand still locked in Arthur's hair. Another unconsciously lands on Arthur's leather jacket. "How did you know?" He suddenly demands, licking his lips. God, he wants to do that again.

"It was obvious. It always is with you jocks." Arthur plays with the striped collar of his jacket absentmindedly, his eyes half-lidded and making Alfred's pants tighter by the second. "You don't think I can't notice when you stare at me across the classroom like some stupid anime protagonist?"

Alfred turns red and huffs. "Fine, whatever…." He suddenly realizes he has no idea what to do. "Er ...How exactly do you want this to go…?"

Arthur tilts his head, that sexy smile still on his face as if he's so confident it's glued there. "What? Do you want to top or bottom?"

"I-I…." He can't think of anything to say.

Arthur snickers. "Oh. I see."

"W-What?!" Alfred yells.

"You're a virgin, aren't you?" Arthur asks, gripping his collar tighter. Alfred opens his mouth, ready to lie to defend his pride, but he instead closes it.

"It's alright," Arthur whispers. "You're only a junior. There's no rush. I've only done it twice before now." He leans closer. "We'll take this slow. I can walk you through everything."

Alfred nods slowly, his pants getting so unbearably tight. God, that voice is pure sex. Alfred couldn't believe this was happening. Was he dreaming?

Arthur looks down and smiles again, his hands snaking down his body. Alfred bites his lips, swearing he can feel every inch of Arthur's fingers sliding down his jacket. "You're getting quite hard there. Is all of this for me?"

Alfred swears loudly as Arthur reaches down and grabs at the growing tent in Alfred's jeans, he nearly yanks on Arthur's hair, drawing blood from his lips to stifle a moan. Arthur chuckles and let's go. "Sorry. We should take this slow, shouldn't we?"

"Y-You pervert." Alfred snaps, letting go of Arthur's hair to rest both on the leather jacket

"Mm. This next part requires clothes being taken off. Would you like to undress me, or shall I ... ?"

"N-no. Haha, I wouldn't know how to do that." Alfred jokes nervously, before his hands fly to his own jacket, quickly taking it off.

"Right. Whatever you say." Arthur agrees, following suit. Alfred stops and nearly squeaks, caught frozen as the Brit removes his leather jacket and within seconds, his shirt. Arthur turns, giving Alfred a look. "What? Like what you see?" 

Alfred blushes red in embarrassment and throws his jacket on the ground, reaching for his shirt and throwing it off, his self-consciousness magnifying tenfold as Arthur gets his first look at the jock's chest.

"You've certainly got a tan." Arthur muses. He comes in closer. "It's a gorgeous sight, love."

Alfred takes off his glasses, swearing they looked foggy and folded them. "T-Thank you? I've never found tans really all that hot."

"Ah." Arthur nods, and a hand comes to rest on his chest. It sends a shiver up Alfred's spine. "What do you find hot?"

"You." Alfred blurts. Arthur raises an eyebrow and he rushes to cover himself. "You're pale skin. You look almost like a doll."

"Why, thank you." Arthur says, smiling as his hand ghosts over Alfred's chest. It ghosts over a reddening bud and Alfred fails to hide a whimper, hands shooting out to grip Arthur's bare arms.

"You're so sensitive." He comments. Then he looks up. "Do you want to try it?" His hands ghost over his nipple again. 

"I-I…" He hesitates. "N-No. Can't we just ...get right to the hot part?"

Arthur laughs. "Alright. I get it." He then backs Alfred up. He sits down on the bed and motions for Alfred to join him. Alfred gulps and does so, and Arthur pulls him over until they're cornered on the headboard.

"Do you know how to do a hand job?" He asks, looping his hand around Alfred's shoulders. 

"Y-Yeah, I think so." Alfred replied, anxiety building as he catches on. 

"Good. Why don't you try it then?" He said, gently grabbing Alfred's hand. Alfred lets him guide it down to Arthur's pants, where another tent is pitching up.

Alfred's hands almost shake as he nervously fiddled with Arthur's pants. He unzips the fly and pulls, and with the Brit's help, pulls them down to the knees. Alfred's breath catches in his throat and his eyes widened as they looked down at Arthur's hardening cock. 

"Come on, don't dawdle about." Arthur grabs his hand again. "I know it's a new sight, but if you keep hesitating I won't be able to control myself anymore." 

Alfred shakes his head. "S-Sorry." He mumbles and he tentatively grabs Arthur's cock and Arthur sucks in a breath all too quickly. It makes Alfred's own cock twitch.

"God." Arthur breathes. "Alfred, move your hand." Alfred's stomach flips as Arthur uses his first name for the first time, and looks down again and experimentally gives Arthur's cock a few pumps. 

Arthur moans and his hands grip Alfred's shoulders tightly. "Oh, that's nice. Keep going, Alfred. You're doing great." 

Alfred smiles at the encouragement and does it again, reaching back and fondling Arthur's balls, trying his best to do it just like in the movies. His own cock strains against his pants, begging to be freed. He bites his lips.

"A-Arthur...I can't… I have to take off my pants." Alfred says almost desperately. "Please!"

"Of course." He pushes of the headboard and kicks off his own pants, reaching for Alfred's fly. "Help me out here."

Alfred nods, face red and clouding with sweat as he grabs his pants, letting Arthur help get them off. They're pushed down his thighs and Alfred shifts his weight, hurrying to kick them off. He groans as his cock is exposed to the air as he does, it getting unbearably stiff.

Arthur breathes. "God, you've got such a perfect body." He murmurs, voice laced with lust as his hand reaches out and gently grabs his cock. Alfred lets out a high whine, pleasure shooting through his body. 

"A-Arthur!" He moans, grasping Arthur's shoulders so tightly his knuckles go white. "P-Please!"

"Patience, love." Arthur coos, and then he leans back on the headboard. "There's lube in my jacket pocket. I'm sure you know what to do with it."

Alfred nearly forgot about lube. He narrows his eyes. "Did you plan this?"

"Don't ask questions." He laughs. "Just get it. I can't stay hard like this forever. 

He sighs and nods, reaching over the bed to grab Arthur's leather jacket. He hurriedly digs in the pockets until he comes out with condoms and a small bottle of lube. He quickly opens everything and pours a generous amount on his fingers.

"Are you ready? Are you sure you don't want me to...take you?" His voice cracks as arousal pools into his leaking cock at the suggestion, Arthur thrusting into him. He still couldn't believe this. Here he was, preparing to stick his fingers inside the infamous Arthur Kirkland.

"I would love to someday," Arthur said, resting his head on the pillows, legs taking their place around Alfred. "But no, tonight you fuck me. I want to see the innocence leave your eyes as you pound into me."

"A-Alright." He said, cock twitching as he nervously lifted Arthur's legs, eyes coming face to face with the Brit's puckered pink little hole. He grips Arthur's pale legs steadily and slowly pushes a digit in.

Arthur hums in pleasure as Alfred's finger entered him, gripping the pillows and sheets tighter. "G-God, that feels good." He mutters, squirming as Alfred pushed in, the warm heat surrounding his fingers and sending bursts of pleasure down to his erection.

"A-Arthur…" Alfred moans, and he pushes another finger in, scissoring him. It felt so good, so warm. Alfred wanted so badly to pound into Arthur. He tries his best not to hurt Arthur as he stretches more, preparing to add a third finger.

"A-Alfred!" Arthur shouts, and Alfred feels immense joy and arousal to hear that name being screamed with such want. "H-Hurry up!"

"I don't wanna hurt you, though." Alfred hesitates, concern lacing his otherwise lusty voice. 

"Alfred! I'm not fragile! Just fuck me already!!" He yells, and Alfred flinches. He suddenly doesn't think, his mind replaced with the desire to just do what Arthur said. He quickly removed his fingers and fumbled with the lube, pouring it clumsily on his cock. Within seconds, he pushes inside, pleasure nearly peaking.

Arthur screams, clawing at Alfred's shoulders as the other sank deeper. Alfred shouts, the warm cavern surrounding his cock almost unbearable. He can't think straight anymore, only that he needed to fuck Arthur silly. 

"A-Alfred! Move! Please!!" Arthur screams, his confident demeanor long gone, replaced by lust at Alfred's doing. The very thought sends another shiver down his spine as he pulls back out and slams in, moaning loudly.

It goes on, Alfred beginning to get the hang of it and continued thrusting inside Arthur, who seemed to be melting, rending into a muttering mess as Alfred pounded into him. 

"Arthur! I-I'm going to-!" Alfred groans, feeling his climax racing up.

"Me too!" Arthur shouts. "Ah! God! A-Alfred!"

And Alfred comes, his climax coursing through him as white liquid came out. Shortly after, Arthur comes too, cream shooting at Alfred's stomach. Alfred collapses on top of Arthur, panting heavily as he pulled out of the quivering Brit beneath him.

"That was…" Alfred breathes, unable to move. "That was…."

"Fantastic." Arthur supplies, wrapping his arms around Alfred, cuddling into his neck. "But I'm bloody exhausted. Can't we just lay here for a bit?"

Alfred smiles with content, satisfied. "Sure...How long do we have?"

"Mmm, not long." Arthur answers, voice muffed by Alfred's neck.

Alfred frowns "Why's that?" Arthur smirks.

"I never actually locked the door."


	14. Day Fourteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Setting is sometime in Britain, early 1800s, sometime before 1832, when slavery was abolished in Britain and it's empire.

Day Fourteen - Scars.

Alfred was very self-conscious about his body.

He was so grateful he was given his own quarters to sleep in. He had no idea why his Lord was being so generous to him, he was just a mere servant and before that, a lowly slave. He had nothing that was worth anything to Master Kirkland. 

Well, besides his own clumsily services. Alfred didn't understand why he hadn't been fired yet. Or sold back into slave services, though he doubted anyone was going to make much money on him anymore, given the amount of times he had been returned. 

His previous masters had been horrible to him. None of them considered him on the same level as them and treated him as such. Now days, he was stuck with dozens of scars lining anywhere on his body, all proof of his past treatment. 

He couldn't help but stare in near shame as he changed every morning, unable to not do so. Honestly, his new master was puzzling to him. He had so little working staff, and was so nice to all of them. Even to him, who considered it lucky when he went a whole day without tripping over something. 

He was a lord, a millionaire, his company highly successful. He had everything, why take up his valuable time with him of all people? He could bet any amount of money that by the time the year was out, Alfred would be back at the slave traders. Surely no one could put up with him for that long.

A bell rings, and Alfred realizes he's late. God, he was going to be in so much trouble! Master's breakfast was one of the most important parts of his day, and he kept messing it up! Dear God, how did Kirkland put up with him?

___________________

He spills the master's tea that afternoon.

He didn't mean to, he just happened to forget where the carpet begins. But it got worse, because Alfred couldn't stop making things worse for himself. He just had to spill all of it directly on master's finished paperwork.

"I-I-I'm so sorry!" He brusts, instinctively taking steps back, preparing himself for the worst. "I-I-I...I'll clean it up right away, sir!"

Arthur merely shakes his head, not a single ounce of anger on his face. "Don't panic so much Alfred, you sound like you just murdered my brother." He chuckles. "Just clean it up and it'll be alright. Those papers won't be meaning anything, giving the meeting today. "

"I-I ...Y-Yes, right away, master." Alfred mumbles, relief flooding in that Arthur was miraculously not mad. No matter how many times this has happened, he couldn't help but fear the worst because for years, the worst was always the outcome.

"Oh Alfred, I've told you before, there's no need to call me that. Just Arthur will do." Arthur said, smiling at his servant from his desk, promptly ignoring the tea as Alfred rushes to wipe it up. God, that was an expensive tea set. How could Kirkland just brush all of this off?

Alfred hesitates, a shiver traveling up his spine as he recalls the last time he forgot to call one of his past masters by their correct title. He couldn't walk properly for a whole week after that. "Right. Of course." He said. "W-What do you want me to do about the ruined papers?"

"Just trash them." Arthur said, waving his hand and grabbed his quill again. "Make sure the leisure room is properly dusted, seeing as we have guests tonight."

Alfred swallows and nods, walking away without a word.

________

The day gets worse. As the meeting goes on, he's supposed to take away the refreshments, but he instead ends up spilling it all over his shirt and the carpets. 

But it's worse because everyone's watching, all of Arthur's equally high-status guests. He looks up horrified to see the ladies snickering, the lord next to Master Arthur whispering with a look of disgust in face. And then questions about why Arthur isn't ordering him, shouting at him.

And Alfred suddenly can't stand it anymore.

He runs off, out the door and down the hall, as fast as he could. Tears run down his face as he frantically runs down the stairs, not stopping until he's in his room and the door is shut.

He breathes heavily, tears running down his cheeks as he stares at his room. He swallows, mind rushing. Blood rushing down the deepest depths of his stomach. That was humiliating, that was horrible, that was, God-

Oh God, now he was going to get fired for sure, he can already imagine it. He'll get sold again, Arthur surely wasn't going to keep him after such a pathetic, humiliating display. He might as well say goodbye now. Tomorrow he is going back to the slave traders, no doubt about it.

Might as well get his soaking shirt off. 

He quickly walks over to stand by the mirror, wincing at his red, crying face. Why did he always do this? Fail after fail, always messing up. Never being able to do his job correctly. It was no wonder no one wanted him. He wasn't even a virgin anymore. He was useless.

He wipes away the neverending tears and quickly grabs at his collar, unbuttoning his shirt and taking it off. He sighs as he stares at his chest, scars everywhere. Most of his previous masters would've whipped him for this. He winced as he remembers each time, one in particular where he'd shattered a whole cabinet of china, and was whipped until he was rendered unconscious and sold the very next day. 

He suddenly realizes he's going to miss Master Arthur. He had been so nice to him. If only he wasn't such a clumsy, useless-

"Alfred, are you alright?"

The door creaks open and there's a gasp, and Alfred shoots around, face drawing in new found horror as his eyes come to meet his master's bright green hues.

"I-I...M-Master...I-I…." He stutters, unable to excuse anything. What was he doing down here?! No proper lord should know their servant's dwellings! Oh God, was he going to yell at him?! 

"I came to see if you're alright." Arthur answered, closing the door behind him. 

Alfred backs away, scrambling to hide his scars. Arthur shouldn't be down here, he shouldn't waste his time here! Oh God! God! God! He's seen him! He's seen all of those….. Fresh tears come up Alfred's eyes. Fear dances in his heart. He must be so disgusted with him.

"Lad, honestly. Don't mind them. They're just twats. You have nothing to be ashamed of." Arthur says, walking closer. He stands out way too much, a lord in a servant's quarters. 

How can he say that? Is he blind? "I-I don't…." He swallows. "Y-You should just leave. You don't belong h-here." He quickly realizes how that sounds and slaps a hand on his mouth. Oh, how he hated himself!

"Alfred dear, stop being scared. What do you think I'm going to do?" Arthur said, ignoring his comment and instead frowning in concern. Alfred falters in confusion. Why would Arthur worry for him? He wasn't worth anything.

"I-I humiliated you, I ruined your carpets, surely your guests will talk about this for months," Alfred said, unable to understand why his master draws closer still. 

"What, them? They'd rather talk about how their daughter or son is about to be accepted into some boarding school." He shakes his head. "You didn't humiliate me. It's alright."

Alfred didn't think so. "W-W-Well, but what about me? I'm useless, why don't you fire me? Sell me?"

Arthur raises a brow, a look of concern increasing. "Oh lad, do you want me to sell you?"

Alfred pauses. "N-No."

"Then I won't. I don't think I should. In fact, that's the last thing I would do."

"I-I…." Alfred takes a step back, still fearing the worst. "W-Why?"

"Because you're a delight. You make all of my days much more exciting and certainly more entertaining." Arthur smiles, and Alfred's confusion grows immensely. 

"I-I'm a what?" Alfred repeats, sure he's heard that wrong. He'd never heard that before. He'd everything else but that. 

"A delight. I know you can't believe it, but it's true." He smiles gently. "I wouldn't sell you for the world."

Alfred sputters. He'd never heard any of his masters say this, not once. He had no idea how to react. He was a delight? Surely not. "B-But I….I…."

"Let me prove it to you." Arthur chuckles. "I'd like to offer you a promotion."

Alfred stops. "A promotion?"

"Tanaka is getting on in years. I'd like to retire him soon. I'll be in need of a new butler soon. I want you to fill that role." 

Alfred widens his eyes, dropping his shirt. "B-Butler? M-Me?"

"Yes, you. You'd need a few weeks of training, but you'll learn. I've come to know Tanaka as a great teacher." Arthur said.

"B-But, I mess up all the time! I spill your tea and smash the dishes and ruin everything! You can't possibly-"

"Alfred, it's rather concerning how lowly you view yourself. I don't care about all of that. You're learning, and nobody's perfect. I don't expect you to never make mistakes. Only that you do your best. So Alfred, will you try your best for me?"

"Ah ...Yes Lord Kirkland." Alfred nods, desperately relieved that Arthur was going to give him such a big second chance.

"I've told you once before. Call me Arthur."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't 100% comfortable with this one. At all. But i ran outta time to fix it. I think it's fine, but eh. I tend to worry a lot.
> 
> Suttle Black Butler references. Hey, it's 1800s England, I couldn't help it all things considered. XD


	15. Day Fifteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know whether to raise the rating for this one. It's certainly more than just smut, got some kinks going on now. Lol.
> 
> Warnings, smut. Let's see, there's rough sex and BDSM stuff, whipping, sex toys, and dirty talk. Yeah, just be mindful.

Day Fifteen - BDSM

Alfred whimpered quite pathetically as the man above him continued his assault on his chest, mercilessly going at it at whatever pace he pleased.

Alfred was in quite a little predicament. His hands sat above him, restrained to the headboard, rendering him powerless. A vibrator sat inside him, buzzing away, teasing him to unbearable ends. But most of all, the most teasing thing was Arthur, on top of him and playing with him however he liked.

He bites a nipple quite harshly, and Alfred moans, cheeks red and hair frayed. It had been nothing but thirty minutes of foreplay, and it felt like torture. Alfred wanted release so badly, but he wasn't allowed to yet. Arthur was forcing him to "earn it."

Arthur smirks against the squirming American beneath him and sits up, reaching behind him to grab the remote for the vibrator. In the next second, it goes up another three levels. 

Alfred nearly shouts, the vibration against his inner walls too much. Why must he do this to him? “P-Please…...Ar-”

“You must know by now how this goes, pet.” Arthur interrupts, smirk dropping. Alfred snaps shut, realizing what Arthur means. “Please what, Alfred?”

Alfred swallows, squirming, trying to relieve some tension on his aching cock. “P-Please! Master! Please let me come!” He begs, dignity quite clearly forgotten. Arthur had the power to render him into a begging puddle of melting pleasure in any amount of time. Even if pain was involved, it all just made Alfred feel so hot inside 

“Mmm, I don't think you’ve earned it yet.” Arthur decides, that stupid evil smirk on his face. Arthur was nothing short of hot, sexy and dominating, holding all power over Alfred. Alfred never fancied himself a submissive before meeting Arthur, but now it was very much the opposite. 

“P-Please! I need you! I can't stand this, I need your cock in me!” Alfred cries, rutting against the bed, trying hard to do anything to give himself pleasure. He knew how pathetic and sluty he sounds, but right now he didn't care one bit. All he cared about was Arthur giving him release. 

“You're such a slut.” Arthur muses in a tone that almost suggests they were discussing this over tea if it weren't for the underlying lust and passion underneath. “How about you suck me off first? If you do it right, I might just let you come.”

Alfred hesitates, two different things happening at once. He’s near devastated to find Arthur was still denying him his climax, but excited at the prospect of having Arthur’s cock in his mouth. As if to drive that point home, Arthur said; “Oh, it seems you like that idea.” He purrs, snickering at how Alfred’s cock gets harder and harder still, liquid dripping everywhere.

“M-Master, please I- Ah!” Alfred yelps in pain as a sharp bite hits his thigh, breathing coming out in frantic short huffs as he looks up to see Arthur had gotten out his riding crop.

“I don't want to hear any more of your begging, slut.” His voice is hard and cold, and caused shivers to go right down to Alfred’s cock. “You're going to take my cock whether you like it or not. Now, open up.”

Alfred whimpers before opening his mouth, eyes widening as Arthur pushes his heavy manhood into Alfred’s waiting mouth. At first, he’s surprisingly gentle, easing in an amount that doesn't make Alfred instinctively gag. The American takes in the taste of his master, wincing as the cock slid further down his throat. 

“Well don't dawdle. Use your tongue.” Arthur commands, and Alfred jolts as the other tease him again, stroking his bulging cock with the riding crop. Alfred moans loudly against the cock in his mouth. He remembers what Arthur said and quickly began to run his tongue against the base, making sure to get all the right places.

Alfred had thought he was a good blow job giver, after all, he had lots of experience. He had no gag reflex, (Arthur always said that was because of the amount of food he ate), and knew just what places to run his tongue over. He moaned as Arthur grabbed at his hair, fishing his hands in the roots.

Arthur began to pull as Alfred ran his tongue down the slit and he thinks he must be doing good, because then Arthur lets out a moan and grabs his head, taking over. Alfred gags as the Brit began to choke him with his cock, mercilessly thrusting in and out. 

A few moments later, Arthur comes down his throat, the white liquid being forced down. Alfred has no choice but to swallow every drop, and he feels more pleasure racing through his cock as he did. He whimpers as Arthur pulls his flaccid cock out of the other’s mouth.

“You're quite good at this, pet.” Arthur muses, stroking his erection as he pulls back. “Honestly, you really are a shameful little slut aren't you?”

“M-Master! P-Please! Let me come!” Alfred begs again, throat hoarse from being choked. Arthur only chuckles. He grabs the remote again and in the next second, the vibrator is turned off. Alfred squeaks at the lost tension, writhing around in the sheets.

“I suppose you've earned it my pet. You should be thankful I’m going to fuck your little hole. Especially since I've already come.” In one swift movement, he reached and yanked out the dildo, throwing it aside. Alfred whimpers at the emptiness, rutting unconsciously against the bed. Arthur positioned himself at his hole and waited.  
“Now, what do we say?”

“Please, Master!”

“Please, what?” Arthur taunts, smirking.

“Please fuck me!” Alfred begs, tears beginning to cloud his vision. His cock is getting more painful by the second, he needed release so badly. “Please! I need you! Please fuck me! Let me come!”

“What a greedy little slut I have, “ Arthur said, before slamming himself into Alfred. The American shrieks in pleasure, white hot bliss loading into all of his senses. Arthur wastes no time and begins to thrust inside of the other, going as hard as possible. 

Alfred cries and screams, left helpless as Arthur pounds into him. He writhes against his leather bonds, nothing but pleasure registering in his mind. Arthur grabs his hips harshly and thrusts harder, then he hits the prostate and Alfred screams his loudest scream yet, reduced to blubbering tears.

“P-Please let me come! Please! Master!” He cries, not caring how he sounded. Arthur pauses, as if he were thinking about it, before another smirk crosses his face.

“Well, since you asked so nicely.” Arthur decides, and he reaches over and takes off the cock ring, finally freeing Alfred’s cock. He thrusts one more time, directly aiming for the prostate. Alfred shrieks as he comes, white liquid shooting strongly into Arthur’s hand. After a few more thrusts, Arthur pulls out and comes again, moaning quietly as he releases his high.

Arthur sits there, observing his exhausted and breathing heavily boyfriend. He sighs and lays down next to Alfred, his arms enveloping him. Alfred huffs, tired and sore. He felt that nice blissful satisfaction he always felt after such sex with Arthur, filled with content.

“Can you untie me please? My arms hurt.” Alfred asked, quietly, squirming next to Arthur.

“Ah, of course, love.” Arthur complied, all traces of a no-mercy dominator gone. He untied Alfred, kissing his hands as he does. 

Alfred decides to just sit there and nuzzle into Arthur, too exhausted to care. “Was that good?” He hears Arthur ask.

“Awesome, actually. You're amazing, Artie.” Alfred said, smiling.

“I sure would hope so. Now hush, I think I fancy a lie in if that's alright with you.”

“Yeah, me too”


	16. Day Sixteen

Day Sixteen - laundry 

Arthur had an embarrassing fondness for Alfred’s jacket.

Before they had started dating, it was a sight imprinted upon Arthur’s mind. Well, it still was, but it was something rather silly he’d think of back before he knew Alfred liked him back. When he would just admire him from afar.

The bomber jacket was Alfred’s trademark jacket, and Arthur always knew it was him when he saw it. He could lie and say he didn't fantasize about wearing it or Alfred gifting it to him when it got cold like some boring couple cliche, but that was lying. Just the thought made his heart squeeze in on itself.

And then Alfred had confessed to him, and now he’d end up wearing the jacket whenever he liked. He did try to keep some of his pride by denying Alfred every time he offered his jacket to him, but there was only so much his will could go through when trying to deny Alfred of all people.

There was a downside, of course. Arthur, being the worrywart he was,(Alfred always joked his spirit animal was a bunny rabbit), he was always hyper-aware of everything. Not only about the fact Alfred freaking Jones' beloved jacket was on his shoulders, but that literally anything could happen to mess it up.

Like now. Thanks to a nice mishap, there was now a shattered teacup on the floor and tea was everywhere, all over his homework, and more importantly, all over Alfred’s precious jacket.

At first Arthur tried to reassure himself it was fine. It was leather after all. The tea was much more important, right? But then he picks it up and his eyes narrow in horror as he sees the tea has stained the fur lining of the jacket. Goddammit!

Surely he could just wash it and it’ll come out, right? Damm it! Why did Alfred insist on him taking it home? It wasn't that cold, and he would have handled it fine, he grew up in England after all. Still, though, Alfred was a persistent type. 

So after calming down and much swearing at the mess the shattered teacup had made, he washed the jacket. He hoped it would be fine, after all, Alfred hadn't told him it was that old anyway. Leather survived trips to the washing machine, right?

Well, it turned out the answer was no. Later that night when he had nervously gone through his laundry, he was left with a leather jacket with a split sleeve. The entirety of the right sleeve was gone!

Arthur simply stared, dread filling his stomach. Oh no, he had ruined Alfred’s favorite jacket. He knew how much his boyfriend treasured the thing, always gloating about it being from his father. God, Alfred would be furious with him. He was going to hate him.

He had to fix this. He could sew it back together. Embroidery was a prided talent of his. He knew it would be a hard job with leather but he had to try, lest he says goodbye to his relationship with his beloved Alfred

By the time everyone else was asleep and Arthur was awake, much past when he usually went to bed, he was still left with gnawing worry. He had done a neat job, like always, but it was still left plainly obvious he’d had to fix it. Everyone would see it. Oh god, he was doomed.

Surely Alfred would understand? But understand what? That Arthur ruined his favorite jacket? He loved to wear that thing. Bollocks, it was just a jacket! Well, a beloved jacket from his dead dad, but all the same. Still, though, Arthur had a bloody hard time sleeping that night.

The next morning, everything started out fine. Arthur had handed Alfred back his patched jacket, and of course, the idiot didn't notice a thing. He simply shrugged it back on and went on to shower his boyfriend in affection like he always did.

Once they had gotten to school and Alfred shrugged it back off again, that's when he noticed.

“Artie, what's this?” Alfred asks in confusion, rubbing his hand over a large number of threads at the hem of the sleeve. Arthur swallowed, that concerned look shooting fear into the deepest bellows of his heart.

“Y-Your jacket split in the wash.” Arthur mumbled, turning red. “I tried to fix it.” 

Alfred frowns more. “Why’d you throw it in the wash? I told you, this thing is like, forty years old. It would’ve died in there.”

Died? Arthur nearly snorted, the ridiculous use of words making him want to smirk and correct him like he always did, but he holds his tongue and says; “I spilled the tea on it. It was an accident, it's not like I meant to ruin the stupid thing.” He turns his head, clutching his school bag, expecting Alfred to get mad. 

But he simply just laughs. “Artie, you split tea?”

Arthur stops. “Pardon?”

“You spilled the tea?” He repeats, grinning ear to ear. “Dude, that's hilarious.”

Arthur flusters up, nearly outraged that of all things, this is the thing Alfred chooses to joke about. Bloody idiot. “You twat! I ruined your stupid precious jacket and you choose to insult me like that?”

“Ha, no! It's a joke, you old man!”

“I am the same age as you, you prat!” Arthur retorts, glaring at Alfred. Alfred laughs as if this is the most amusing thing on earth before fixing his glasses and flashing one of his trademark bright grins.

“You didn't ruin it. It's fine, I can still wear it. The thing is forty years old, I don't care if it looks a little worse for wear or whatever.” Then he smirked and leaned over at him. Arthur takes a step back, cheeks growing redder. “Were you worried?” He asks cheekily.

“N-No!” Arthur answers, scowling. “It's just a jacket. It's not like I ruined your perfect hair.”

“Yeah, whatever. You didn't have to worry. You did a pretty neat job fixing it anyway. If anything I wanna wear it more now.”

Arthur furrows his large brows. “Why’s that?”

“Cuz’, now it has a piece of you on it.” Alfred says, smiling lopsidedly.

“Don't be such a sap.” Arthur retorts. Inside though, his heart only beats faster. God, he was the luckiest in the world to have Alfred. He clearly didn't deserve him.


	17. Day Seventeen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BelAmer, aka Belarus x America, used to be and might still be one of my favorite ships. Sadly, there's not nearly the same amount of fan content for it as UsUk. Ah, UsUk is better anyway. :D
> 
> This is a request from UsUk Lover.  
I do take requests actually. I'll have to make sure to leave a link to my Discord to make it easier from now on tho.
> 
> Warnings: mentions of drinking and the aftermath of sex. Mind yourself.

Day Seventeen - Cheating.

Alfred’s head felt heavy.

He felt warm. What day was today? It was Saturday, right? He couldn't remember. He snuggled closer in the blankets, warm and content. He was awake enough to register there was someone else in the bed with him, but he couldn't remember who it would be. Was it Natalya?

Wait, no. He remembered. He didn't remember seeing Natalya at all yesterday night. But wait, that meant it had to be someone else. But who, who else would he be in the same bed with? Unless….

Alfred shifts, blinking as he opened his eyes. He didn't recognize this room. It was much more cluttered than his and a lot more neatly organized, and he certainly did not remember owning this many books. 

Why was he here? Alfred blinked, trying to remember what he had been doing last night. He remembered there being some party, and Arthur was there. Wait…..Arthur?

Alfred jumped, bolting upward. He wasn't wearing any pants. Oh no, no, no, no. Alfred looked over, only to find Arthur sound asleep, face contorted almost adorably. Oh god, no. Why was Alfred’s heart warming?

What did he do last night? How could he do this? Wait, maybe it wasn't as bad as he thought. So what they were both near-naked in the same bed and Alfred couldn't remember anything of last night? Surely that didn't mean what he thought it would.

Alfred bit his lip and grabbed Arthur’s bare shoulder, prompting him awake. He ignored how his heart swelled to see how cute Arthur was when being awoken. Arthur blinked, rising and yawning causally. His eyes land on Alfred, but instead of panic, it's calm recognition.

“Good morning, Alfred.” Arthur mummers, blinking tiredly. Alfred’s heart panicked and tightened at the same time as he stared. “Something wrong?"

“Please don't tell me we had sex last night.” Alfred blurts before covering his mouth, cursing his existence.

Arthur raises his eyebrows. “We did, actually. How much did you drink last night? Surely you remember something.”

Alfred opens his mouth, ready to tell Arthur he doesn't remember drinking, but then he does. He cringes at the thought. Oh God, what was he going to tell Natalya? 

“I-I sort of remember doing it. It's all kinda blank.” Alfred said. Then he huffed and slammed his head on the bed headboard. “But what about Nattie?”

Arthur frowns. “I….Look, I'm sorry. I was the more sober one. I shouldn't of let this happen. I just…..wanted it so much my drunk mind couldn't say no.”

Alfred sighs and grabs his glasses off the bestand, clumsily putting them on. “I-I, no. Don't be sorry. I think I might’ve enjoyed myself too.”

Arthur glares. “And you're certain it not because you were too drunk to remember your own name?” 

Alfred winces and sighs guiltily. God, how could he do this? He hated alcohol. He hated the taste of it, even the simplest ones. How did he get so drunk? “I….I remember liking it a lot. It felt good…..” Then a spread of red fills his face as he remembers more details. “Were you topping?”

For the first time in the morning, Arthur smirks. “Yes. Why? Did you like it?”

Alfred blushes more. “I-I, N-No! I...I …  
F-Fine! I did! So what?!” 

“I meant nothing of it. Just, if you enjoy it that much, then what do you think you're going to do about Natalya?”

“I don't know,” Alfred admits, rubbing his eyes. He stares, guilt coming in. While it was true he hadn't truly liked his girlfriend in months, which is probably the reason why his drunk self had sex with Arthur, he didn't like cheating on her. “I never wanted to cheat on her...I just…..”

“Listen, it was an accident,” Arthur reassured. “You don't have to blame yourself. Mistakes happen.”

“I know, but dear God! I cheated! I cheated on Nat!” Alfred said, horrified by the thought. “I’m such an idiot!”

Arthur sighs and rolls his eyes. “You're not an idiot, lad."

"You lie! You say so all the time!" Alfred claims, ready to pull his hair out. Oh, gosh. He was dead. So dead. Natalya was going to kill him.

"Alfred, look." Arthur snapped irritable, patience waning. Alfred looks up, panic still wrote clearly on his face. "I know you feel guilty, and I acknowledge you're horrified. But you're not the one to blame here. You're a human being, of course, you make mistakes, just like now."

Alfred swallows and nods. He supposes he's right, but all the same. Cheaters belonged in graves. "But what do I do now? Arthur, Natalya's going to kill me. She's going to stab me with my own glasses, I know it!"

"She'll have to go through me first." Arthur decides, glaring at nothing in particular. Then he paused. "Do you remember why you consented to have sex with me in the first place?"

Alfred frowns. Why does this matter? "N-No. Why? Are you going to justify this somehow with your two hundred IQ?"

Arthur snorts. "Alfred, that's ridiculous. I'm going to tell you that last night you told me you wanted to break up with Natalya."

Alfred feels dread seep in. Oh god, he went ready to tell anyone that. Not even Arthur. But god, he did. How? "What did I say?" He questioned, fearing the worst. Heck, it was worse enough already. Perhaps he was already on his way to Hell.

"You complained you didn't like Nat anymore. You said you couldn't stand her anymore." Arthur explains. Alfred nods numbly, confirming all of this is true because it was. It most certainly was. Alfred felt more guilty just thinking about it. "Then you know what else?"

Alfred groans. Oh no. "Yeah?"

"You said you like me more."

Alfred gags, slapping a hand to his mouth. It had gotten worse. "W-What?!"

"Oh, it's true." Arthur laughs, amused.

"Arthur!"

"Okay, I'm sorry. Still though. That's why you had sex with me. Though, I brought it up. And I apologize. That was purely immature of me. You seemed to have really liked it though. You even yelled my name when you climaxed."

Alfred's face creeps red. He groans, whacking his head against the headboard again like a child. He screws his eyes shut. He can't believe he did this. Arthur knew he liked him, he had even loved the sex too. He had cheated on Natalya. God, he was going to Hell. One idea rings in his head, and desperate for a solution, he says it immediately. "I have to break up with Nat."

Arthur nods slowly, deep in thought, his bright gorgeous eyes much more awake than Alfred ever could be in the mornings, even now. "She won't be happy."

"I know. But, I would just feel really bad if I kept leading her on like this. I mean, I really don't like her anymore. I-I…..I've started to like you." Alfred admits. He shifts nervously, suddenly very self-aware about Arthur being the room. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" Arthur deadpans. "You have nothing to be sorry about. Stop worrying so much.

" I know," Alfred said, rubbing his face. Everything still felt so sore. "I just. I can't believe I actually did that."

"Me neither. Now I get to hold the fact you bottomed over you. I might even tell people." Arthur snickers.

Alfred looks up in exaggerated horror. "Don't you dare!"

"I might." Arthur chuckled, holding up a hand to prevent himself from bursting into laughter.

"I confess my love for you and you decide to you use it against me? You complete villain!" Alfred accuses. "You'll make it worse! Nat will bury me alive!" 

"No, she won't. Can't the famous football quarterback Jones take a girl like Nat?" He teases. Alfred brightens red at once. He sighs.

"Hey ummm, Arthur?"

Arthur paused. His tone had shifted. He clears his throat. "Yes, Alfred?"

"I do love you. A lot. I'm going to break up with Nat, okay?"

Arthur smiles gently and leans over to peck Alfred on the cheek. "Okay."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cheating is a bad thing. Don't try it at home, kids. No cheating on your boyfriend with your girlfriend or your girlfriend with your girlfriend or your cat with another cat or your hamster with a ferret. People's feelings must be minded. Ferrets and cats too.


	18. Day Eighteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is kinda of an idea I had sometime last spring, when I was half way through writing Emerald Rose. It's an Au where Alfred and Arthur meet differently. I don't remember why I dropped it. Figured it would be nice to bring it back up and finish it for this one, since it's first meetings and all.

Day Eighteen: Meeting Each Other

When Allistor had suggested finally replacing the old cabin boy who had perished during a run in with the Navy, Arthur only thoughtlessly agreed. Cabin boys had their purposes, no matter how small. He cared not that he was endangering yet another young soul's life, making it possible to have their lives ended before they really began. Of course, Arthur never hired anyone any younger than fourteen. Still though, that was a young age to die.

So, a week later, Arthur was met with Allistor leading a small boy who looked no older than sixteen around the docks. From where he stood, Arthur couldn't make much detail of the boy following his first mate around yet. He was tall and well built, so perhaps an ordinary boy of the town, one who earned a living even at such an age. He spotted messy blond locks and rich tanned skin, which was another clue. That was evidence of many countless hours under the sun, a number only one of the low class would spend outside like that.

Now, of course, Arthur always got the final say so in whether or not they would really hire anyone. Arthur was the ship's captain, and he ruled it with an iron fist. He had earned every bit of the respect his crew had for him, and they all knew that with a pirate captain such as Arthur Kirkland, they would never go broke again. There was a reason why almost every country in the world put a price over his head.

"Cap'n." Allistor greeted. He clapped a hand on the shoulder of the newcomer. "I brought ya a potential recruit." The boy noticeably flinched when Allistor touched him, and Arthur immediately drew his attention to the boy.

Oh, such pretty eyes.

Arthur blinked as his own eyes swept over the boy. Those were the brightest blue eyes he had ever seen. They were so rich in color, like sapphires. They were beautiful. Arthur snapped at himself to focus, he was being stupid, ridiculous. His eyes lowered. He was right, the boy was well built, and tall. He noticed the almost endless legs too. Those trousers were so unbearably tight…..

"So?" Allistor interrupted, and Arthur snapped back. Had he been…..swooning? Certainly not. How absurd. There was no way. He was being stupid. Focus on business, Arthur. He cleared his throat. Time to remind this boy of exactly who he was.

"Got a name, lad?" Arthur spoke, his voice impassive as always. He never showed such vulnerability, he'd think about what that was later, or perhaps not at all. There was no point, it was nothing. It had to be. He didn't feel such things anymore, not him. Not He, Captain Arthur Kirkland, the most feared pirate of the seas and the most popular subject of legends and nightmares. 

The boy seemed to hesitate, almost as if he thought there may be someone else the Briton could be talking to. "Its ...um...i-it's Alfred. Alfred Jones." He said, lacking confidence. He was scared, nervous. That wasn't a surprise, Arthur knew as such. He didn't think that however. What Arthur had the audacity to think of instead, was how pleasing Alfred sounded. His voice was adorable.

Oh bloody hell, what was wrong with him? He hoped he wasn't serious. He ignored his thoughts and pretended his mind hadn't just started panicking. He smirked, only slightly, perhaps not enough to scare Alfred further. "Charming. I suppose you may already know who I am?" He asked lightly, appearing amused. He was, probably because of how scared the boy was of him. That too, was adorable, but he won't admit it.

"Y-yes. You're Arthur Kirkland. Captain o-of the Emerald Rose." Alfred said, shrinking in on himself at the name. For a moment, Arthur almost felt guilt. Guilt for scaring the poor thing. He inwardly groaned and pushed that thought away. Him? Feel guilty? Hilarious.

"Hmph. Can you clean and shelf things fine?"

"Y-yes."

"Can you stay out of trouble?" 

"Yes."

Arthur lapsed back into thought. If this were any other boy, he definitely would be having second thoughts but he couldn't think of not hiring Alfred. His stomach screamed at the thought of never seeing him again. He had to hire him. He had to.

"You're hired," Arthur said without a thought. What was wrong with him?!

Allistor raised an eyebrow, but Arthur ignored him. "You are to gather your things by tomorrow and be ready to leave. We depart first thing tomorrow. Allistor will explain the rest to you. I have work to do."

Arthur turned without another word. It mattered not whether or not he had the last laugh, his authority would remain unquestioned. He walked away silently, his boots clacking on the wood of the docks.

What was wrong?! He hadn't felt this feeling in so long. Years. He thought he was done admiring, loving. It couldn't be love. He was the fearless Captain Kirkland, he didn't have love to give anymore, and no one would want it.

The hardest thing to admit was, he wasn't ready to fall in love again. He couldn't. He had lost so many people. His family, his first captain and half his crew, Francis….He wasn't ready to love someone again, long for them, worry about them, fear for them. He didn't want to.

He had a lot to think about right now.

_________________________


	19. Day Nineteen

Day Nineteen: Needing Each Other

Alfred didn't always stay up until three in the morning.

But he decided to be an idiot like he usually was and procrastinated too much on a project on temperature effects and cells in one of his many science classes, and unless he sacrificed his sleep, he was going to fail.

So now he sat in a sort of study fort on his couch, surrounded by papers and books and his laptop. With movies playing from his extensive choices on Netflix, of course. He preferred to not work in silence.

Around three in the morning, when he had gone through five movies and was three out of four quarters done, he heard his doorbell ring. He frowned. Maybe the pizza guy he called three hours ago had finally come by. Or it could be whatever else would be out at three in the morning on a university campus. He sighed and got up, pausing the movie and rushing to his door.

He unlocked it only to find Arthur on his doorstep.

"A-Arthur? Dude, it's like three in the morning." Alfred said, then he noticed how messed up Arthur looked. He looked like he had been crying. "Hey, are you alright?"

Arthur sniffs, and it's a sound that makes Alfred's heart drop. He never wanted to see Arthur cry. Not ever, not while he was around. "I-I j-just...I need a place to stay." Arthur said quietly, and Alfred slowly takes in the duffle bag hanging on his shoulder, and how hoarse he sounded.

Whoever did this to him, he was going to kill them. Alfred put on a reassuring smile and opened his door wider. "Of course, Artie! Come in! You're always welcome here."

Arthur doesn't smile back, he simply nods and walks in, past an Alfred who kept getting more and more worried by the minute. Why would Arthur be coming to his place like this so late at night? Did something happen? Was it Francis?

"Sorry about the mess. I was doing work when you came in." Alfred says, laughing to himself a little. He reached to clear space, work completely forgotten. Arthur, for the first time in forever, does not complain or lecture him for it. He only nods and sits down on an empty couch, still quiet.

"Are you alright? Seriously, you need to tell me." Alfred said, sitting down right next to him. He smiled at him. "What happened?"

"I'm fine. It's just…" Arthur begins, but another red flag is raised as Arthur stutters over his words and sniffs again. 

"Arthur, you came to my house at three in the morning asking for a place to stay. You're not fine. Please, just tell me." He said, scooting closer.

Arthur inhales, and Aflred can see his eyes watering. He feels horrible, and scoots closer, so tempted to wrap his arms around him. "It's Francis."

Alfred feels anger boiling. Francis. God, he wanted to punch him. He hated Francis with every fiber of his being, and it wasn't just because he was dating Arthur and Alfred wasn't, it was because Francis was a horrible excuse for a boyfriend and didn't deserve Arthur at all. "What happened? Did he kick you out?"

"I-I let myself out. We're ...w-we're…" Arthur swallows, and Alfred stops himself from flinching as the Brit nearly sobbed. "We've broken up." 

"Oh." Alfred swallows. He slowly reaches and rests a hand on Arthur's hunched shoulder, trying his best to comfort him. He promised to himself that the day Francis messed up, he would be there to pick up the pieces. "Do you wanna talk about it? It'll make you feel better."

Arthur sniffs, and only shakes his head. "I don't want to."

Alfred could practically feel the tremors in the Brit's voice and huffed. "What did Francis do to you? I'd rather not have to ask him. He's an ass."

Arthur breathes, one step away from crying. "Yes. He's a right old twat. I wish I knew sooner." He wipes an eye and looks at Alfred. "He was cheating on me."

Alfred nods, fighting to keep control. He really wants to burst out in anger and punch something, but right now Arthur needed him. He needed a hero, and Alfred was going to be that hero. "With who?"

"I don't know. I didn't care to ask. I just packed a bag and left. I didn't need any explanation, I saw what I needed to see." Arthur sniffs, and Alfred wraps his arm around him, showing him suttle care. 

"Francis is a jerk. You don't deserve him. It's about time you got rid of him." Alfred said, smiling. Arthur simply nods, leaning into Alfred.

"I-I ...I thought I meant something to him. I thought he felt something, like I did. I guess I was wrong." Arthur rubs his nose. "I'm sorry for intruding…"

"No, don't be sorry, Artie. It's fine. You can stay here as long as you want, I don't care." Alfred said, rubbing Arthur's back. "I care about you, like, a lot. If you can't bear to look Francis in the eye anymore, I've always got an empty room. It's one of the perks of being roommate-less."

Arthur sniffs, smiling at Alfred. Alfred feels his heart soar. He had made Arthur smile. "That's not a word, you idiot."

"Ha, it is now. I've invented it." Alfred claims, childishly.

"Oh please, you are no Shakespeare." Arthur huffed. "I just ...I can't sleep yet...I just want to forget it happened."

"Mhm. Well, I can't erase your memories, but I can distract you." He releases Arthur's shoulder. "How about I make you some tea, and you can put whatever you want on Netflix. We can watch something together. Just me and you."

Arthur seems to consider this and smiles. "Well. It's about time I introduce you to Sherlock. Still though, I'm making the tea. I don't want to consume an insult to English culture."

"Hey! I can make tea just fine you jerk!"

"Yes, and a fat lot of truth there is behind that statement. I'm making the tea."

Alfred laughs loudly as Arthur gets up, his nose in the air as he invaded Alfred's kitchen. He loved Arthur. He'd do anything for him. He was just glad this whole Francis thing was finally ending. Now he finally had an excuse to kick his ass.

____________________


	20. Day Twenty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been very good about not switching prompts throughout this entire event so yes, this might feel similar to things I've already done, this is a story I've picked at a lot. I tried my best to make it different.
> 
> I never once touched the canonverse. I don't know why.

Day Twenty - school crushes.

Arthur was no idiot.

Unlike most people in high school, he didn't waste time denying his feelings. It was a rather unhealthy practice, and Arthur was smart enough to know what was going on. But, just because he didn't deny, it didn't mean it made things any better.

Especially considering the person he had feelings for was Alfred Jones.

He hated Alfred Jones. He hated him and was so in love with him at the same time. Alfred was an idiot. A complete attention-seeking prat, and Arthur had fallen into the same trap every school girl did. He had an unbearable crush on the twat.

He'd never even spoken to the boy. He had no reasonable opportunity. After all, they are on completely opposite sides of the social ladder. He could bet his entire monthly allowance that Alfred didn't even know his name, or that he even existed.

Alfred was the school's perfect golden kid. Hot looks, football quarterback, good grades, and everyone flaunting after him. Arthur was the social outcast, a quiet student who worked in the library and always had his nose in a book. He thought the entirety of the high school population were idiots, and made sure everyone knew so. Nobody like Jones would ever talk to him, much less return his feelings.

So, with all evidence, he was certain Alfred Jones would never look his way.

And then came March.

Sitting in his locker was a love note. At first Arthur had thought some kid stuck rubbish in his locker, and then he opened it. Written in messy handwriting was a poem. Addressed to him. It was terribly clumsy and the words didn't even rhyme, but it made Arthur blush.  
It was sweet ...and nice.

He had a secret admirer? But who would look at Arthur long enough to start admiring him? He hadn't had anyone call him cute since secondary school back in England. Could it be-?

No. It can't be Jones. Don't get your hopes up, Arthur. He was not Alfred's type and even so, Alfred was confident. He wouldn't be going anonymous like this. He wasn't afraid to approach people, unlike him. It was not Alfred.

But he already felt his heart racing at the idea. Alfred could've sent him this. But no, why would it be? Oh, what if it wasn't even a guy, what if it was a girl? Arthur didn't like girls!

He had to find out who this was.

So began Arthur's investigation. By the time he had all of his suspects, two more had arrived within the week. And another thing, the writer had started going by "A". He decidedly ignored that Alfred's name started with an A and simply scribbled out his name from the list the moment he wrote it down in his notebook. No. He wasn't going to humor himself. Not unless all of his clues started pointing to it.

He quickly began to rule out any girls, to his intense relief. No girls with such messy handwriting had time to be going near his locker, and none of them seemed to match the description he had put up for his admirer. None of them fit the bill for hurried, right-handed, messy chicken scratch.

And then, he quickly went down the boys too. He flat out asked Gilbert, knowing his outward reaction alone was enough. And then he found out the stupid git was going to ask out Matthew Williams, whoever that was. He had ruled out Francis right at the beginning, considering the prat always wrote in cursive.

He'd narrowed it down to three. Well, four, but he was not willing to add Alfred Jones back on the list unless he had to. There was just no way it could be him. Why would it be?  
It had been a month and he had ten notes now, all stored in the same notebook he recorded his investigations on. None of them pointed to anything, but Arthur didn't care. It just could not be Alfred.

Maybe it was Lukas. Though of course, he had no idea if the fellow was right-handed or not. He should ask. He was good friends with him, it was logical that he might like the Brit. He was on his way to ask him about his handwriting right now actually.

And then he made a u-turn when he realized he had forgotten his chemistry textbook in his locker. He needed it tonight.

He was about to walk right up to it before he froze.

Standing right in front of his locker, leaning back and playing on his phone, was Alfred fucking Jones.

Arthur sputtered, words not forming. He stood rigid, not knowing what to do. What in god's name was he doing here?! Oh god, god oh god. He opened his mouth again, trying to process words, but his heart was already beating so fast it was choking him. All he could form was nonsense. "Uh...Um…"

Alfred looks up, and Arthur feels his stomach launch up his throat. His mouth hung open as Alfred's beautiful blue eyes met his own.

He pushes off the lockers and gives a big smile. "Hey, Arthur! God, I didn't think you'd come back, I've been waiting here for eternity!"

"I-I ...What are you doing here?" Arthur asked, daring to walk closer. Come on, Arthur! Don't be such a wishy-washy little school girl! He swallowed. "Not to be rude, but I don't remember even talking to you."

"Oh, uh, yeah." Alfred laughs, and it makes Arthur's stomach grind itself into bits. "Yeah, I know. It's awkward. But I need to give you this." And then he hands Arthur a piece of paper.

Suddenly something clicks. "You're ...You're!"  
Arthur finds himself unable to formulate words again as his brain began shooting off faster than his mouth.

Alfred smiles and leans into Arthur's personal bubble. "Open it."

Arthur quickly does, fumbling nervously with it. Inside, written in that messy handwriting, was the words; _"Will you go out with me?" _He looks up again, sputtering in surprise as his mind began self-imploding. "You're the person who's been giving me notes?"

"Yep!" Alfred laughs, and then he takes back the note. "So! Is it yes or no?"

"Yes!" Arthur blurts, before slapping a hand over his mouth. "I'm so sorry! I meant...Yes! I-I…"

Alfred chuckles, seeming to find this all very amusing. "You alright Artie?"

"I-I ...yes. I just…i never thought you'd...like me." He mumbles, cheeks burning red.

"Well guess what?" He then grabs Arthur by the shoulder and pecks him on the cheek. "I do."

________________________


	21. Day Twenty-One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> About 650 hits so far. In under a month. New fucking record right there. I can't tell whether or not it's becuase some readers have clicked on this dozens of time or because there's smut on this fic.
> 
> It's probably a combination of both.

Day Twenty-One - Sacrifice

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Alfred asks for the fifth time, squeezing his hand. His hand was a stark contrast compared to Arthur's, pale as snow. Arthur still remembered when they'd be the perfect tan.

"Yes, please stop asking, you're making me unbearably nervous." Arthur sighs, cuddling closer into Alfred's side. He was still so warm, despite how cold and lifeless his skin looked. He still loved Alfred with all of his heart, which was why his conversation was happening. "We can't keep this up forever. People are getting suspicious."

"I know...but, once we do this, I can't reverse it. Damnation is forever, Arthur." Alfred said, a nervous smile growing on his face, one that even in demon form, Arthur still treasured it. 

"I know. I know full well what we're doing, but I'm perfectly willing." Arthur said, giving his lover a reassuring small smile. "This is the only way we can stay together. If we continue like this, the head archangels will find out, one way or another. We can't run around like this, meeting in secret on Earth for much longer." He paused before shaking his head. "I don't want to. I want the freedom to see you whenever I like, just like before."

Alfred smiles. "And you say I'm the sap."

"Yes." Arthur nods, smirking. He loved being in Alfred's arms. He looked forward to being able to do it for hours, undisturbed by time or anyone finding them. "Still, if the head archangels find me out, they'll arrest me, they'll strip me of my powers, they'll ...I won't get to see you again."

"Jerks. I almost want them to know of this."

Arthur raises an eyebrow, giving Alfred a look. "Why's that? It'll be absolute hell."

"So they know you'll soon be my property. They'll know not to touch you, because you're my little angel. My fallen little angel." Alfred ruffles Arthur's hair and in annoyance, the angel swats his hand away and moves out of Alfred's arms. 

"I think that will just make things worse." Arthur snorts. "You have possessive issues."

"Can you blame me? I'm in love with the hottest angel on the planet." He thinks for a bit, staring at Arthur with his icy blue hues. By now, Arthur had gotten used to them, but he still sometimes dreamed of the sky blue ones that belonged to an Alfred he once knew. "What do you think you'll look like when you're a demon?"

Arthur considers this. He hadn't thought much about it. All he really had thought about was an eternity with Alfred once again. "I've never thought about it before. What do you think? You're the expert on demons."

"Eh, you know what? You've got those feminine curves." He chuckles.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Arthur scowled. Alfred had more of a teasing playful nature, demon instincts added to his personality. He'd also become more possessive of Arthur, more determined to show him in unconditional love. Perhaps separation had done things to them.

"You might become an incubus." Alfred teases, smirking. "You know what those are, right?"

"Of course I do." Arthur huffs, blushing. He felt embarrassment just thinking about. Him? A sex demon? It wasn't exactly one of his top choices. All of the incubi he had met tended to be horny assholes. "I'm not quite sure I'd like to live the rest of my days feeding off of sexual intercourse."

"I knew you'd say that. I wouldn't mind. I think you'll be adorable." Alfred snickers into his hand, and then Arthur glares at him and scoots away, his archangel robes getting dirty on the grass. "Hey! Artie! Don't be mean!"

"You're a right old pervert, you know that?"  
Arthur grumbles, his wings twitching. He hated the Americas. Too many bugs.

"Yeah I do. Only for you sweetie." He leans over and loops his arms around Arthur's neck. "I think you'll have bright red locks too. It'll make your eyes stand out." 

Arthur considers this. "You sure it'll be red? How exactly does that work?"

"I dunno exactly. It's usually just whatever colors bring out the darkest parts of you. Red is the color of passion, and it stands out like fire, and deviation. It suits you."

"It does then, does it?" Arthur says, playing along. It was going to be alarming, going through all of this and waking up looking like another person. He remembers with guilt how hard it was to recognize Alfred when they first reunited. 

"Yeah. It'll look hot on ya." Alfred decides, burying himself into Arthur's neck. A chill goes up his spine as he feels Alfred's presence on him. It's intimidating and it makes Arthur feel inferior, but he drinks up every bit of it.

"Mm. Hey Alfred?"

"Yeah, sweetie?"

"Is it going to hurt? When you…..you know?"

Alfred sighs, unmuffling himself from Arthur's neck. "Yeah ...it's extremely painful. I still remember when they first dragged me down. It took days, and it was horrible. It's like you're consuming the fires of sin. It's like you're burning alive, really slowly. I guess it just wears off and it finishes, once all of your purity just melts away."

Arthur pictures it, and all the sudden he feels bad, realizing this is exactly the pain Alfred had to go through, so many years ago. "I'm sorry. I wish I could've saved you. Then neither of us would have to suffer."

"Arthur, stop thinking about the past. This is the here and now, and this is what matters." He reaches and cups Arthur's cheek, turning his whole body to face him. "All I want is to be with you, happily. I want you to be happy."

Arthur nods. "And happy I will be, once I join you."

Alfred smiles sadly. "I wish there was another way. I'm about to take so much from you. You'll never get to see heaven again, and all of this archangel stuff you've worked so hard for…"

"And it's all because of you. When you left, the only reason I kept going was because it distracted me from you. It kept the pain at bay, I could pretend you weren't dead, even if in the end I thought you really were. None of it matters if I can't have you." Arthur shifts, drawing closer to Alfred's embrace.

"That's sweet, Artie." Then his smile falls. "Are you ready?"

"Let's sit here a little longer." Arthur decides, leaning back into Alfred's arms. "We've got time. This is peaceful. I want to remember this."

"Me too." He sighs warmly, holding Arthur tighter. "I love you, Arthur."

"I love you too. Alfred."

___________

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, this is connected directly with Reunited, the fic about sweet devil UsUk I wrote in September. I'm only confirming, if you really needed to read it in order to understand this, this note would've been at the beginning, lol.


	22. Day Twenty-Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, this is basically a Warlock England AU. Basically. I didn't really did it that much here, it's kinda vague.

Day 22: Magic

Alfred was once a knight.

Well, emphasis on "was."

In less than a week, everything had fallen apart on him. Nearly his whole family was against him, he might never see his brother again, and he'd had to flee from his home. He wasn't a knight anymore, not to a kingdom who now wanted his head.

So what was he now? A number of things. A fugitive. A heretic. A nuisance to the very people he pledged his life for. It stung, ringing and banging around in his mind as a prominent reminder of how cruel life was to him.

Now he wandered through the woods, looking for the place where the villagers had pointed out. He needed a safe place to hide. He couldn't tell whether or not anyone had actually helped him or had just tried to make his day worse. He hoped the former.

Settled almost neatly into a pocket of trees, was the cottage he was looking for. Alfred swallowed. Who exactly would willingly live this far into the woods? Was it a witch or mage? A cannibalist? A weird hermit guy?

According to the "help" he had been given, the person who lived here could help him. They hadn't said who it was, or even whether or not the person really would take him in. He had started to wonder if the villagers were really just trying to screw him over.

He walked up to the threshold, and then hesitated. Perhaps he hadn't gone far enough even. Hell, maybe days worth of travel weren't enough to keep those looking for him at bay. Maybe he needed to travel for weeks.

No, he was out of food, and there was no way he would be able to hunt in these woods. He couldn't go much longer without food, also known as his greatest weakness.He sighed and knocked on the wooden door, his movements echoing in the empty forest.

He waited. Silence. And then, footsteps. Alfred felt his stomach twist in anxiety. He swallowed. God, he hoped it wasn't a cannibal.

But no one opened the door.  
"What do you want?" An accented voice rings out, shattering the silence.

Alfred swallowed. That was not a happy welcome. He tried to think of something to say, but it was hard. "I need to talk to you." He said, trying to sound nice.

But the door still does not open. "You're not another knight wanting to do an investigation, are you?"

Alfred nearly blurts out that he is a knight, but then he remembers that he isn't one anymore, and holds his tongue. "N-No ...I was just...I needed a place to stay."

The door opens. It startles Alfred, and he looks up to see a small man, wrapped in a dark blue cloak. He had alarmingly bright green eyes, and they felt like they were piercing into Alfred's soul.

The person seems to stare at him, as if deducting him. Alfred tries to say something, but the guy was literally stealing all of the air he had. "You don't look like a traveler. Why would someone like you want to stay in an isolated cottage in the woods?" His tone was distant and hard, and it was clear he wasn't asking because he was curious. 

I-I….becuase it's isolated. That's why. I need a place to hide." Alfred said. He shifted awkwardly, unable to guess what the British accented man thought of him. He was intimidating. Maybe this really was a bad idea.

"Come in. I'll make tea." The man says, opening the door wider to let him in. Alfred hesitates, wondering If it was really something he should be doing. He just nods, walking in. 

His stomach flips as the man closes the door. It's dimly lit, and the space is very cluttered. Alfred looked curiously around, taking in the neat shelves and crowded surfaces. He sees rows of bottles filled with strange liquid, and something clicks in his mind.

"Are you a magic person?" He asks, suddenly excited by the prospect of meeting a mage. Or a warlock. Or a witch. What was the difference again?

"I'm a warlock, thank you." The stranger provides, frowning. "Sit down. I was under the impression you wanted to talk."

"Oh yeah, right." Alfred said, shuffling awkwardly to the small table. He sat down on a rickety old chair, left to watch the stranger pour tea into two expensive looking porcelain cups. He notices right then how soft and feminine like the man's body is. 

"I know you're staring, lad." The man said, and Alfred flinches. But he had his back turned! What?!

The man chuckles, the noise like soft velvet against his British tone. "Don't be embarrassed, lots of people stare. Magic isn't popular amongst country citizens. I'm different than what most people see." He places the cups on the table and sits down, observing Alfred. His eyes rake over him, and Alfred feels everywhere they stop. It unnerves him.

"You look well-fed. And like you've been travelling a long time, but you don't look like you prepared for it. May I ask why you've come so far?" The warlock pressed, still surveying him.

"Why do you ask?" Alfred asks nervously. Hey! This guy could sell him out! Or eat him. Whichever.

"Because, I don't want some stranger living in my house. There's all sorts of things that would love to murder me in my sleep." The warlock rolls his eyes, sipping his tea casually, as if it wasn't intensely awkward for Alfred. 

"Oh. Yeah, sorry. I'm...I'm from the capital." Alfred began.

"Your clothes point out as much. You look rather much like a knight. Please don't tell me you decided to lie to me." The warlock smirks, and it makes Alfred's insides dance. "Lying isn't a very nice thing to do."

"N-No! I just ...I used to be a knight. I'm not one anymore. I have a price over my head now. It's kinda complicated." Alfred said, panicking. He did not want to know what warlocks did to people when they were angry. He didn't like the sound of living life as a toad.

"Ah. I see. I have a fugitive in my house. How interesting." The warlock tilts his head, smiling. "You don't look like someone who would commit crimes on purpose. Perhaps you were framed?"

Alfred widens his eyes. This! This is...dear God, this guy was scary smart. "You're freaking brilliant, you know that, right?"

The man chuckles. "You're extremely easy to read. But you know, that's not what most people say."

"What do most people say?"

"Piss off."

Alfred bursts out laughing, and it's the first genuinely positive thing he'd laughed about in days. The man chuckles, before continuing. "So, you were framed?"

"Heh, yeah." Alfred smiles sadly, good mood starting to disappear as his mind forces him to remember. "It's ...I'd rather not talk about it. It still kinda hurts."

"Of course." The man smirks again. "But you must know, I'm not going to let you stay for free."

Alfred's smile drops. Anxiety rushes in like a cold slap back to reality. Oh great. "I-I understand. I can do chores, and I can hunt. That's what you want right? For me to help out? I won't be some lazy freeloader, promise."

"That's quite kind of you, but no, that's not what I want." The man continues, smiling wider.

Alfred is getting more and more nervous by the second. What exactly did this warlock guy want from him? His help getting money? His blood? His soul? "What exactly do you want? I don't get it."

"If you wish to stay here, then you have to agree to become my apprentice."

Alfred spits out the tea. "W-What?!"

The smirk is still printed on his face, as if he was permanently confident in himself. "You heard me. If you want me to take you in and hide you from the King's full might, then in return, you have to become my apprentice"

"I-I ...That's!" Alfred doesn't even know what to say. "That's insane! I can't do that!"

But the man only raises an eyebrow. "Why?"

"Because! I….don't even know your name! Or whether or not you're some evil warlock or a good one!"

"My name is Arthur, and good or bad is a very debatable term. I wouldn't know what your opinion on the matter is." Arthur rolls his eyes again, seeming to be getting bored.

"But! But-!"

"You're being a child, lad. Think about it. All I want you to do is work for me and help me in my studies. I really could use another hand or two around here, and I can't always be bothered to walk into town. You won't get as lucky if you just move along. Someone may even rat you out. Don't want to be executed now do you?" Arthur says, tone demanding him to see reason.

Alfred tries to think about it. He's right. This could be his big break. What better than to hide with a warlock? "You won't try to sacrifice me to some demon person, right?"

Arthur only snickers at such a comical question. "I don't summon demons. Those require quite a lot, and there tend to be consequences to add to it. You'll be helping me conduct the experiments and spells, actually."

Alfred nearly brightens in interest. "Help you? Like, doing magic?"

"Yes, I'll have to teach you a thing or two. Though, mind you, you don't look like someone who can learn all that much in the magic field. It'll be nice to have a ex-knight around though. So, what do you say?" Arthur tilts his head, waiting for an answer.

Alfred thinks. It's not so bad. But, he couldn't help but feel slightly frightened at the prospect of working for such a man. He didn't even know how to describe it. It was ...weird. But the idea of setting back out and traveling even more sounded miserable.

"Okay, I'll do it." Alfred said, uncertain if this was a good idea or if he had just sold his soul to the devil. God, he didn't want to regret this.

The warlock smiles. "I knew you'd come around."

______________


	23. Day Twenty-Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another Sweet Devil AU! This time, they're both demons. 
> 
> Warning: rough sex and smut and some more smut. And dirty talk. And sex. More sex. Mostly Anal.

Day 23: Rough Sex

Arthur moaned slightly as Alfred deepened the kiss, his tongue going wherever he pleased. His other hand roamed his body, and Arthur had no problem letting him. Not like he really could stop him. His hands were tied to the bed frame above him. He was completely powerless against him.

"Someone's hungry," Alfred said as he broke the kiss. "Did I wait too long? I didn't mean to starve you, sweetie."

Arthur glared a little at the demonic tyrant about him. " I insisted I was fine two days ago. You were the one who made us wait. I'm not some doll."

Alfred gave a chuckle that made Arthur almost shiver. "Yes you are. You're my doll." The incubus opened his mouth to protest before Alfred started leaving kisses and bites all over his neck. Arthur bites his lip and found the retort stuck in his throat. They had only just started and Arthur could already feel all the heat pooling downwards.

He moaned as Alfred began to suck in one particular spot, his hands roaming again as he did. One landed on the reddening buds on his chest and flicked it. Arthur nearly moaned quite pathetically before biting his tongue to avoid letting it out. Unfortunately, it made Alfred stop.

"You know how I hate it when you try to hide those sounds from me sweetheart. I wanna hear you." Alfred smirked devilishly before leaning down again and enveloping a nipple in his mouth.

Arthur moaned loudly, the hot mouth surrounding his sensitive spots making everything warm. He hated losing control this quickly, but he couldn't help it when it came to Alfred. 

"A-Alfred, please stop teasing!" He muttered when Alfred started to swirl his tongue around the little bud, tempting louder and louder sounds.

"Awww, but I like it when I tease you, Artie." The demon above him comments playfully, his breath on Arthur's chest. "You make such pretty sounds. It's great."

Arthur scowled, but it quickly melted when Alfred sat up, his nipples suddenly cold from the loss of contact. Alfred got up and straddled his hips. He looked intimidating and almost possessive like this, above Arthur and the incubus completely at his mercy.

"Please…." Arthur whined quietly. One hundred years ago the incubus would've scoffed in disgust at the whining slut he had become, but one could say Alfred did spoil him quite a bit. Maybe he had gotten soft. He couldn't really care less right now.

"You're not ready yet Arthur." Alfred answers in a husky voice. He smirked at Arthur's look of neediness and turned behind him to grab  
lube and move to sit between Arthur's legs.

"You should know how this works by now, sweetie," Alfred says, chuckling under his breath as he did. "I want you begging for it. You have to show me how much you want it before I give it to you Artie. Otherwise, I might just quit."

"N-No!" Arthur breathes without thinking. Alfred snickered and his smirk widens. Arthur glared again at the demonic tyrant.

"That's better. Don't be a meanie, sweetheart. I know how much you love this." To show his proof, he reached out and grabbed the growing erection in front of him. 

Arthur whined loudly at the gesture, bucking his hips back into the hand. His cheeks were wildly red in passion and embarrassment, and the embarrassment only made him needier and needier by the second.

Alfred let go all too quickly and grabs the bottle of lubrication, pouring a generous amount on his fingers. Despite the other's love for going rough, he always made sure the preparation was smooth. He had once gone in dry, and it was a thing they both agreed to not do again. 

Alfred then dropped the bottle and lifted Arthur's legs to get better access. His fingers circled the opening, and Arthur started biting his lip so hard it drew blood. Alfred smiled mischievously at this display. "You ready for this sweetie?"

Arthur nodded furiously, withering in his bonds. The binds weren't meant to hurt him, but too much struggling could still cause stinging burns.

And soon enough, Arthur is being opened up at a rather pathetic rate. It was natural, considering demons had the power of self-lubrication, but even then, it was like he was perfectly lose all the time. Arthur squirmed, whimpering as Alfred made work of him, digging in his fingers deeper and deeper.

"You're so hot like this." Alfred murmurs, digging his other hand into Arthur's bruising hips. "I always wonder whether or not I prefer you loose or tight. You make both feel so good."

Arthur only gave a desperate glare, driven mad by all of the pleasure and tantalizing need. "A-Al...S-Stop teasing- Ah!" He nearly screams as Alfred strikes his prostate, the pleasure chasing out all other thoughts in his mind. 

"What a little slut." Alfred says, smirking. He removes his fingers and grabs at the belt looped into his trousers. "Who knew that my grumpy little incubus could turn into such a loud little thing?"

"You bloody tease." The incubus breathes, cursing and praising how much this was filling him, how much he loved this, how much he longed for the other to pound into him. "Just f-fuck me already!"

"Mmmm, I don't like how mean you sound Artie." Alfred taunts, casually latching onto one of his nipples again. He snickers as Arthur whines and moans, eyes wide with lust and need. "How about you say the magic word?"

If he was having sex with any other, he would've growled or acted in any negative way. But it's Alfred, and all he can do is moan in white-hot pleasure. "P-Please! A-Alfred, Please!!"

"That's better." And then he lines himself up and pounds into him.

The poor little incubus screams, not being able to handle the pure pleasure and bliss dancing into his mind. It's not by any means gentle, Alfred is practically impaling him with his cock. All of the pain has no other effect but make him harder and harder.

"Are you going to come already, you little slut?" Alfred whispers, biting on the other's earlobe as his thrusts got harder and harder. Arthur only moans, unable to process anything other than pleasure. He really is going to come already, he couldn't help it. "What a little whore, coming so fast. I've been inside of you for less than a minute."

But Arthur almost ignores him, seeing stars as Alfred strikes his prostate, and then he came. He screamed loudly as he came all over himself and Alfred's stomach.

Alfred pauses, watching. He smiles once he's done. "Little slut. You're not supposed to come without me. Haven't we talked about this?"

Arthur breathes heavily, still recovering from his high as fear strikes him as Alfred pulls out again. He whines, the sudden emptiness making him uncomfortable.

"Sweetie, you know better. Now we have to start all over again. You know how I hate that."

_______________


	24. Day Twenty-Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is kinda like a sequel to chapter 8.  
Septemeber me wanted to write down hatred for this chapter when I was preparing for this even though I would have no idea what to write for that.
> 
> This is the first idea that popped in my head, lol.

Day Twenty-Four: Hatred

Arthur hated Alfred.

He hated him for how much he failed at his job as a servant. He hated him for how amazingly adorable and young he was. He hated him for distracting him when really he needed to worry about his kingdom and its next king. He hated Alfred for making him blush when he was supposed to save such feelings for his king.

But now? He had no idea what to feel.

Now Alfred was the king. Alfred was the king he was supposed to be waiting for. A mere servant was meant to rule alongside him and finally complete their kingdom. The thought baffled him, and then days later it haunted him in his dreams.

At first, he was a number of things. He still hated Alfred, but the thought was weakening. Now, he started to lose the will to hate him. He wanted to hate him, hate him for how annoying and young he was, hate him for being such an idiot, but it was hard when every time he looked his way, his heart would start to go at the speed of sound. 

He didn't want Alfred to be his destined one. He didn't know what he wanted, but it wasn't this. He had no idea what to do. He couldn't make it stop, he had no control over anything. Alfred was the chosen one, he was the King, and Arthur wasn't going to let anything as stupid as his little grudge get in the way of running his beloved kingdom.

And even then, he didn't want to fall in love with Alfred. He didn't know why. He didn't understand why the clocks would ever choose Alfred. It felt almost as if as he had been betrayed. He had spent so much time hating Alfred, only to find out he was the one he was destined to fall in love with?

He didn't want to face that. He knew he would inevitably have to, but every time he thought about it, his stomach would drop into his boots. He didn't like feeling guilty, he was the bloody Queen of Spades, he wasn't supposed to. It scared him. It was like Alfred was bringing back feelings he had tried hard to bury all of these years.

So, he had been ignoring Alfred. He ignored him all he could, throughout all of the meetings and coronation plannings, ignoring the wedding and Alfred himself. To his horror, he only felt more guilty. Why was he so keen to ignore his own king? Why was he trying so hard to run from his own feelings?

It wasn't supposed to be this way. He supposed he had fooled himself into thinking his future partner would be a clean slate, that he wouldn't have to worry about his past chasing him or any feelings he may have had about Alfred. He could stop worrying about them once the next King was chosen, but then the clocks chose Alfred, and everything came crashing down.

He was getting tired of it all already. It was times like these, all by himself, alone in their now shared chambers, that the feelings and worries would all crawl around in Arthur's mind. He should be doing work, he should be trying on the coronation suit he had been given earlier today. It wasn't as extravagant as Alfred's, considering he wasn't the one being crowned, but all the same. 

But he simply sat there, perching on the bed and just staring. He had a huge headache, and it felt like something was pounding into his skull. He didn't know how long he could just keep Ignoring Alfred like this. He didn't even know why he wanted to. Maybe it provided him comfort, or maybe he didn't want to face he truly was in love with Alfred. He wasn't sure at all about it and it terrified him.

The grandfather ticked on, and all it did was make his headache worse. It reminded him of that day when Alfred was chosen, and it was annoying. He wished he could just break the thing. No, that wouldn't be very mature of him. This whole thing wasn't mature of him. 

He heard footsteps. Bloody hell, Alfred was coming. A pit of dread and excitement settled  
In his stomach. He jumped off the bed, not wanting to embarrass himself, and within seconds he was in front of an open wardrobe, fiddling with the coronation outfit.

The door opens, and Alfred walked in, humming and happy. He was always so cheery, it made Alfred sick and want to smile at the same time. He looks quite a bit different in his coat and expensive kingly clothes, but Arthur doesn't see much difference. He's still as hot as he was before.

"Hey, Artie!" Alfred greets, taking off his coat. Arthur doesn't spare him a glance, pretending to be busy. He doesn't want to look at Alfred, not now.

"Call me by my proper name you idiot." Arthur says instead of greeting him, taking the coat off the hanger. Instead of purple, it was navy blue, a stark contrast to what he usually wore.

"Oh, forgive me, your royal highness." Alfred jokes, laughing. Arthur doesn't know whether or not he's fighting a scowl or a smile. "Oh! Hey, do you have a minute?" 

Oh no. What does he want? He didn't want to talk to him. He swallows and turns to face him, trademark poker face masked. "Yes. What do you want?" 

"I wanted to give you something." He smiles, and it makes Arthur's brain implode. "Mind if I go get it?"

God, the king was such a child sometimes. It would be rude to blow him off, so Arthur forced himself to nod stiffly. Alfred smiles brighter and runs over to his room. Thank God they didn't have to share a bed yet. God heck, the wedding was in two months. Then he would have to share a bed with him. He didn't want to think about it right now. 

He returns with a box wrapped in satin blue, almost like a child on holiday. Arthur's head bangs with confusion. What in the world was he doing? Was he aware of how childish he was acting?

"This is for you!" Alfred almost sang, holding out the box. 

Arthur fights to keep a natural expression. He gingerly takes the box, pretending to be examining it. "Is this a gift? Why are you giving me this?" He asks.

"Because you seem really grumpy. You ignore me and everyone else and always go to bed really late and wake up really early. I kinda just wanted to cheer you up. That's my job right?" Alfred says, grinning hugely, eyes sparkling innocently from within his blue framed glasses. 

Arthur's brain stops cold. He had noticed. Was he being confronted? Was Alfred ...mad at him? No, he couldn't be. He was giving him a gift. He was trying to cheer him up. Surely he didn't deserve that though, the way he had been treating Alfred. He swallows. "You didn't have to. This is really rather…" he searches for a word that doesn't hurt anyone. "This is really rather a bit much, don't you think?"

"Open it first, you goof." Alfred jokes, snorting. "How can you be so judgy if you haven't seen it?" 

"Oh. Fine." Arthur said begrudgingly. He pulls at the ribbon, pulling it off and opening the lid. He feels his heart melt as he looks inside. There's a huge bouquet of red roses. English roses. Arthur almost couldn't breathe. They were his favorite. 

He pulls them out. "T-These are my favorite. How did you know?" He murmured, unable to hide the shock in his voice that Alfred would give him such beautiful flowers. He almost can't resist the urge to sniff them. 

"Yao told me. I asked him. I wanted to get ones you liked." Alfred admits, smiling at Arthur's reaction. Arthur couldn't say anything, the words were stuck in his throat. The guilt was piling up. He couldn't avoid it anymore. This is overwhelming.

"There's more you know." Alfred comments, chuckling. "Look down."

Arthur does so immediately, both horrified and excited to find there's more. At the bottom of the box is a stuffed animal. A toy? He almost scoffs, unable to believe Alfred would think it was appropriate to give him this. He shifts everything in his arms to take it out, and his heart suddenly melts all over again as he realizes it's a rabbit. A stuffed rabbit.

"You got me...a stuffed rabbit?" He says out loud, a smile barely contained. Alfred was being so thoughtful, so kind. It was becoming his undoing.

"Yeah. I heard it's your favorite animal. It kinda fits. It's cute." Alfred smiles, stuffing his hands in his pockets. Arthur just stares at the plush white toy, not knowing what he should do.

Shouldn't he just say thank you? He really wants to. But something stops him. Something gnawing at him. "W-why?" He blurts, going red with embarrassment. 

Alfred frowns. "Why what?"

Arthur rolls his eyes. "Why? This is rather sudden. It's nice, but…." He swallows, willing away the pain. "I haven't exactly been the nicest person."

"I know. I figured you had a lot on your mind. I kinda understand. You weren't expecting all of this I guess." He said, and Arthur feels guilt build up as he recognizes he means himself being chosen as King. He nods, unable to meet his eyes. "I just wanted to make you feel better. I know you wouldn't be crazy about talking to me yet, so I thought something simple. Like a present!"

Arthur simply nods again, words caught in his throat. He doesn't know what to say. All of his hate and resentment and love and guilt and pain and this what he gets? No. Alfred should hate him, he shouldn't be giving him gifts like it was bloody Christmas. "T-Thank you. It's rather simple, but it's nice enough." He pauses. "I appreciate it."

"You're welcome!" Alfred beams. "Hey, if you ever want to talk, I'm always out there."

Arthur swallows and nods. God, he wasn't planning on this. Why was Alfred being so nice to him? It wasn't what was expecting.

Oh god, what was he supposed to do now?

_____________________


	25. Day Twenty-Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hitman Jones Au. I've always wanted to write this one too, too I've never been quite sure how to approach it. This helped me get a solid idea.

Day 25: Enemies 

Arthur found it rather hard to breathe.

Five more minutes, and his target will walk into his view. Five more minutes and he could take the shot. Five more minutes and Alfred Jones will be dead where he stood.

He sat crouched at the window sill, out of sight. He had carefully planned all this for weeks. All of these careful steps and sneaking around, gathering information, deceiving everyone, it had all lead up to this. Because in less than five minutes, he will have his chance at killing Jones.

It was his job. He was an assassin, it was his mission. He was given the task of murdering him, killing him and putting an end to his troublesome organization. It was a very difficult task, and everyone had thought it best for Arthur to carry it out.

Four minutes.

Arthur felt a lump in his throat. He wasn't nervous, certainly not. He'd done this dozens of times. Perhaps he was sick with anticipation. He had been told how dangerous Jones was. He was a sociopathic madman. He found joy in watching others die and suffer, and he was far from sane.

And even when he met Jones up close, it gave Arthur chills. He didn't know what he was expecting, but he had acted so normally. He looked normal. He laughed and joked and charmed people and was kind. He didn't look or sound anything like the highly functioning sociopath his file had set him out to be. It put Arthur off. It was unnerving.

Three minutes.

Arthur stared at the window, watching the outside. It was quiet. Jones was supposed to meet a client out there, right in front of Arthur's view. Right where he could get a clean shot to the head. He wouldn't be alone, but that wasn't the point. No one would be able to see him anyway. He'd be gone before they could even react.

It hadn't been easy to know where to be at this exact time. He spent too much time at that stupid fancy party, acting and pretending while trying to gain information at the same time. Jones himself was no help at all, and anyone else, they weren't so easy to trick. 

But Arthur managed. He was the best of the best after all. That was him.

Two minutes.

Arthur checked his watch every five seconds. He felt the anticipation as if it were slicing his brain in half. He couldn't help but fear that something was going to go wrong. That something was going to happen. He might get caught, and then what? What would they do if they caught him trying to assassinate Alfred Jones?

He knew what. They'd kill him. Or they'd interrogate him. They'd surely want to know who sent him and why. He knew that, and he was well prepared, even though he was certain that he will not get caught. He had done this plenty of times. He wasn't going to get caught. He was well-practiced in his area of stealth, he knew he won't let it happen.

One minute.

One more minute. One more minute and this will all be over. He looks out the window again. There's still no one there. Arthur's heart drops. No, his client was supposed to arrive first. Thirty seconds. Perhaps he's late then. He shifts his handgun in one hand, checking his watch fervently. Twenty seconds. Still no one. Had he gotten it wrong? But how? 

Ten seconds. Still no one. Arthur swallows, anxiety mounting. Surely he was right! Why wasn't there-

"Are you looking for someone?"

Arthur froze. No. Please don't tell him that was him. It was impossible. How could-

"Turn around, Artie."

Arthur feels the earth-shattering dread. Jones had caught him. Jones was right behind him. He swallows, unable to believe it.

"Turn around or your insides are going to decorate the wall, Artie."

Arthur, barely able to breathe, slowly shifts around to face him. There he his, Alfred Jones, standing right in front of him, gun pointed straight at his face.

"Hiya, Arthur." Alfred smiles, and it sends a shiver down Arthur's spine. It's a truly terrifying smile, and all of the sudden he has no problem believing this man really was a merciless sociopath. "You know, assassinating me isn't really a nice thing to do. It's really mean."

He feels the gun still in his hand, but he fought down the instinct to raise it. Alfred would surely put a bullet in his head if he did. He instead fights down all of his fear and gives him a hard cold stare. "How did you know?"

Alfred smirks. "You're a great actor, I promise. I plant cameras in all of my guest's rooms. I'd had plenty of people try to kill me, I've had lots of time to learn from my mistakes." He snickers at the thought. "Oh, Arthur. I really like you, you know. Why must you make things so much harder?"

Arthur grits his teeth. Was he playing games? He really was a sociopath! "It's my job. I was assigned the mission to kill you, and I will do it." Arthur said, staring him down. Alfred stares back, with those cold icy blue eyes that would make anyone falter. He smiles.

"That really hurts, you big meanie. Honestly, you were such a kind little gentleman when I met you. Is this the real Arthur? Boring and mean?" He taunts, his gun gesturing along with his body. The Brit watches it anxiously, heavily aware every breath he took might be his last.

"You weren't supposed to know. I hardly should be apologizing for it." Arthur seethes, scowling at him as deeply as he can. He feels terror, resentment, major disappointment that he got caught. Now what? Was he going to shoot him? "Are you going to kill me?"

Alfred glances at his gun and drops it, a big grin that better suits a child on his face. "Nah. I have better plans. You're really quite something Artie. It's better to keep you around, don't you think?"

Oh, so he was going to go out the long way. Interrogation. "If you plan on using me for information, I won't be giving you any. My lips remain firmly sealed shut." 

"You know, asking all of these questions is really quite bad manners. I thought British people were big on that." He pouts, the look on his face almost not human. "Come on Artie, I thought you liked me too. All of that acting didn't stretch to that, did it?"

"I never once thought of you as anything more than a target." He lies, and then he spat in his face. He was not giving in, no matter what.

Alfred blinks, before sighing almost dramatically and whipping the spit off his face. "Fine. We'll talk later sweetie. I'm almost out of time anyway. Still gotta meet that client of mine."

Later? What-!? "What the bloody hell are you-" but then Alfred slams the back of his gun hard into Arthur's skull. A big burst of pain registers before black invades his vision. 

_______


	26. Day Twenty-Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Four more days to go. God, this month was slow. Ima need a serious break after this lol.
> 
> Animal AU. Wolf Alfred x Rabbit Arthur.  
Funny thing, I imagined this idea with Alfred as the rabbit and Arthur as the wolf. I read a fic once where Arthur was the wolf and Alfred was a sheep. It intrigued me.

Day Twenty-Six: Storm Fears

Another burst of thunder boomed, and Alfred whimpered, sinking deeper into the covers.

Alfred hated thunderstorms. He hated the flashes of lighting and the big bursts of thunder. Every time he prayed his house wouldn't cave in on him. 

Yes, it was very childish of him, yes he was embarrassed to admit it, yes he knew well other wolves would mock and ridicule him if they found out, but it wasn't entirely childish, at least not to him. He had a very good reason to fear storms. It was very personal. 

He buried his head into the covers, trying his best to hide from the world and not take all of the blankets. He really didn't want to wake up Arthur. He didn't want the rabbit to know about his little fear, even if they were lovers. He didn't like waking up Arthur. Not only was he adorable when asleep, his little features all calm like an angel, but he knew the rabbit didn't take well to losing sleep.

Another flash and Alfred squeaks cringing and awaiting the thunder. The boom comes, and Alfred wants to hide under the pillows. Any of those lighting strikes could hit his house, any of them could blast his roof apart, any of them could kill him where he slept, just like-

"You alright, love?" 

Alfred froze his golden ears on his head twitching. Oh crap. Crap. What should he do? He wasn't supposed to wake him! "Uh….." He blurts stupidly.

The form bundled in the blankets beside him shifts, and his lover sits up. Arthur blinks rapidly, disoriented and tired. "You've been whimpering and squealing all night. Is something wrong?"

Alfred opened his mouth, but the words were caught in his throat as his cheeks began to glow red with embarrassment. Oh God. "N-no! I-I just ...It's … it was a nightmare ..."

Arthur raises an eyebrow. "You weren't even asleep you dolt."

"Yes, I was!" Alfred protests weakly. "I was-" but then another flash comes and Alfred squeals, grabbing at the covers as the thunder shattered his will to cover himself. 

Arthur simply stared out the window, before turning back to Alfred with an amused expression, his ears flopping around him. "You're afraid of the thunder, aren't you?"

"N-no! Haha! No way!" Alfred shouts, pulling a fake smile. "H-How stupid-" He catches sight of Arthur's face falling into an impatient glare. "...Fine. Y-yeah. I'm scared of thunderstorms."

Arthur stares a bit more, before opening his mouth. Alfred, however, beats him to it. "Please don't laugh. I know, it's stupid. It's childish. I'm an idiot. I know. I have my reasons, okay?!"

Arthur sighs tiredly and holds up a hand to rub his eyes. "No, I was going to ask why you seem so afraid of storms. If you didn't spend the entire night crying into the blankets, then maybe I would've laughed, but you seem quite troubled. I'd really rather like to know why before I think anything."

Alfred swallows, nodding. He slowly sat up, eyes zipping back and forth from the window to Arthur. "It's ...personal. It just brings up bad memories."

Arthur frowns. "Like what, might I ask? Do you mean that time your house burned down? Alfred, you told me you didn't mind. You moved in with me like it was nothing." 

"I know! But it's been a lot longer than that! I've always wanted to move in with you! This is…." Alfred hesitates, frowning deeply. "W-what if the roof caves in? Something terrible could happen and I don't think I can handle it again, okay?"

He'd said too much. Alfred starts to panic. Oh, now what? What did his stupid bunny boyfriend think of this?

"Alright." He sighs and gestured to the nightstand. "Hand me that book."

Alfred blanks out. What? He glances over at the nightstand. "Book?"

Arthur rolls his eyes. "Obviously I'm not going to let you continue on cowering under the covers like something's going to behead you, so I'm going to read to you until you fall asleep."

"R-Really?" Alfred said, eyes widening. Arthur wasn't going to make it worse for him? But- "The storm might go on forever though."

Arthur snorts and smirks at him, gesturing again for the book. "Well, we better bloody well hope my voice doesn't give out. Now hand me the damn book already."

Alfred snickers at Arthur's attitude and leans over for the brand new book Alfred bought yesterday at the market. "Are you seriously going to read me a story?"

Arthur gives him a look as he takes the book and opens it. "What part about it do you not understand? Would you rather I go back to sleep and you snivel under the covers for the rest of the night?"

Alfred hesitates, furrowing his brow in confusion as he nods. "Still this is ...God, I really love you. You know that right?"

Arthur smirks again. "Yes, I know. You always make the effort to inform me every day. Now get comfortable you great big prat."

Alfred laughs and moves to cuddle with Arthur, becoming more fond of his boyfriend as he did. God, he loved Arthur. He had the best lover in the world.

_____________


	27. Day Twenty-Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another Punk X Nerd Au. This is a finished one that's been lurking around in my google docs since.....I think in February.  
It's about time I kicked some of these prompts out there lol.

Day Twenty-Seven: Random Fluff

Arthur was sitting behind the school gym building because, frankly, the rules about when or where and why involving what he was doing was a fat load of rubbish in his opinion. It was the perfect place to be alone and just think. Not to mention maintain his reputation of intelligence by people watching whenever he got bored.

Of course, nowadays it had become his guilty pleasure because this spot happened to give him a good look at the bottom of the hill from which the majority of the school campus was built. This way, he had such a perfect view to watch the main event of his recent romantic attractions. Most, unfortunately. 

It was from where he sat, back leaning against a tree which was planted questionably close to the building, rather sour because he was out of cigarettes because his mom had been trying to help him get out of that habit, that he could watch the kid that he ended up having such a silly crush on.

Alfred Jones was such a funny boy, from Arthur's observations. The sophomore was quite the dorkish nerd, but it made him so unbearably adorable for some reason and it struck such a cord with Arthur. He hated it. Why out of all the most outlandish people was it him? Him that Arthur found so cute whenever he laughed or did something inherently stupid? Alfred that would send Arthur's stomach into acrobatics that made him want to regurgitate the soda he had wasted his money on for no reason? 

The nerdy sophomore probably had no idea Arthur even existed. Even if he did, Arthur was certain he had written him off as a trouble maker and that it was best to just not associate himself with one that would only ruin his education life. Alfred was a very prestigious student. He followed all of the rules and had some of the highest grades in the school. Arthur wasn't even sure his own was as brilliant as Alfred's.

Arthur had been so utterly confused as to why he was affected so strongly by such a boy. It was so uncanny. Arthur had barely even cared for him until one day he saw him trip over someone's feet in the hallways. Then came the self-hatred for admiring someone who would never look him in the eye if he could help it. He immediately needed to know what was happening to him.

So Arthur had started watching the other whenever possible. It wasn't stalking, no, he would never stoop so low. How absurd. It was observing was all. Back when it first began Arthur was convinced the feeling was merely fleeting and that he'd be over it next week. He was much displeased to find out he was terribly wrong. The feeling only grew.

Alfred had turned out to be quite an interesting person to watch. The boy didn't seem to have very many friends at all, which surprised him. Alfred was so nice and friendly, barely even being rude to someone on purpose. People just seemed to avoid him. Arthur would admit that the boy was rather talkative and tended to rant too much. Not to mention that despite his amazing grades and his tendency to read science textbooks for fun, he still acted like an idiot half the time. But there was no reason why he had such a small number of friends.

Arthur would always find him in some peaceful location on school grounds, enjoying the company of the few friends he had. The more Arthur watched him, the more adorable things Alfred did that made Arthur's mind struggle to function, like stick his tongue out while studying in concentration, or drop his phone or book when he had forgotten something. His friends seemed to be as serious as him when it came to their interests.

Today was the perfect example. For a reason unknown to the Brit, Alfred was all by himself this time. It was the only time he had found where his own and Alfred's schedules lined up perfectly. They both had a free period at the same time. While Arthur spent it at his own leisure, Alfred spent it studying. He could tell even from afar that Alfred had a fondness for science and math. Even his locker was decorated with almost childish stickers of planets and satellites. The boy also seemed to love comic books and superheroes as well, the old nerd stereotype. It only made Alfred more adorable.

What continued to haunt him was the fact that he had no idea how to approach Alfred. Now that the idea of having such a crush on him had become painfully normal, Arthur was met with the desire to talk to him, or the very least try to. He was not an idiot though. He knew his appearance upon the boy would scare him. Someone of his character normally only talked to kids like Alfred to taunt or bully them, what with his beloved leather jacket, his tendency to wear plenty of band shirts, and his inability to stay out of trouble.

"Ha! Found you!" A boisterous voice announced, making Arthur jump out of his thoughts. He turned in great annoyance to yell at whoever had the nerve to jump him. It turned out it was only Gilbert.

"Bloody hell? Are you trying to start an accident?" Arthur yelled, scowling at the person he most begrudgingly called his friend.

"Aw, nein!" The German said, laughing at Arthur for being so annoyed. "I saw you looking at that nerd again! Are you actually going to tell me his name this time or am I going to have to find out myself?" 

Arthur immediately froze up, heat rising to his cheeks. Much to his dismay, Gilbert had caught on to Arthur's affection for the boy. Gilbert had taken to teasing him a lot about it. "I'm not telling you anything, you git. Please, you'll get us in trouble!"

"Like you actually care." Gilbert dismissed. And it was true. Arthur wouldn't have cared if his habits landed him into trouble. It wouldn't ruin his real future one bit. He sat down next to Arthur and smirked. "So have you actually approached this nerd of yours?"

"Why would I discuss such things with the likes of you?" Arthur scoffed, folding his arms and looking away. This happened to be in the direction he could see Alfred, sitting under a tree in the courtyard, captivated by what Arthur could assume was some sort of book. It made his heart swell, which didn't help his current predicament at all.

"Because! The awesome me wishes to bestow my help upon you!" Gilbert declared dramatically, his red eyes gleaming with what one would call an overgone case of narcissism. Arthur turned to glare at him.

"You are the last person I would ever ask for help, especially with what you proclaim you can " help" with. Go actually go to class or something and leave me alone." Arthur hated whenever Gilbert insisted on trying to help. The last then that had happened he ended up going home early with a bloody nose and an angry mother who was questioning why her precious son was friends with him. 

"Schiez! It is obvious you need my awesome help!" Gilbert insisted. He hooked his arm around Arthur, making him feel only more annoyance. "Besides you're the person who made my flower Lizzie give me a chance! The awesome Gilbert always repays!"

"Yes, and I regret it more and more by the hour. What kind of advice could you possibly think I would want from a narcissistic perverted jerk like you?" Arthur countered, tired of glaring at the albino and turning his gaze back to the subject of their "discussion." Alfred seemed to have forgotten about a worksheet of some kind and was now frowning over it in a worried frenzy. So cute. 

"Stop being such a scared little pussy and talk to him!" Gilbert said, grinning as if he had just announced the cure for cancer. 

"That's utter bollocks. The other students have labeled him as an outcast nerd, if I just walk up to him, he'll think I'm there to bully him!" Arthur said excuse set in ever since the thought of talking to Alfred became a thing. Not to mention being near the boy and whatever it made him feel utterly terrified him. 

"You don't know that though. He could end up completely smitten by your good looks for all you know." Gilbert argued, grinning like he could solve all of poor Arthur's problems.

"He'd be terrified." Arthur established sternly. "I…." He hesitated. "I don't want that." It was the subject of his nightmares and daydreams. He knew he would scare the boy. The boy also scared him, but in a much different way.  
Besides, he would never love or like Arthur the way he did. He wouldn't even want to hang out with him. 

"Ja, Ja, you'll take some getting used to, but you can't say you know until you try," Gilbert said. He nudged Arthur's leather jacket. "If you don't talk to him by tomorrow, I'll send your brothers those drunk pictures."

Arthur growled. "No, you won't."

"Yes, I will. Go get 'em eyebrows!" Gilbert announced, shoving Arthur to his feet. Before the punkish Brit could get his bearings, his bag was being shoved towards him.

"Your paying for my lunch tomorrow!" Arthur growled, stomping off. God, he hated that stupid German student. He always insisted his ideas were always good, even if they ended with him getting suspended or with a bruised face.

"Ja! Whatever!" Gilbert yelled humorously as a farewell. Arthur grumbled and kept walking, his mind racing. On the other hand, he could just run off and hide in the bathroom, but that would be utterly pathetic of him. Plus the fact he knew Gilbert really would send those awfully embarrassing photos of Arthur drunk and acting like an idiot. He would never live that down. His brothers never missed a chance to tease Arthur and poke at his adopted tough exterior. 

But what would he say? What could he say? Arthur felt his face heat up as he approached. His mind raced for an answer. Arthur didn't find himself into the kinds of things Alfred was. It wasn't those kinds of things Arthur admired. It was the sweet behavior and kindness and overall just plain old cuteness. He had no idea whether or not that's actually a good conversation starter. Perhaps maths?

Yes. He couldn't fail with that. That was guaranteed to interest him. He could merely pretend he needed help. He didn't really, but Alfred didn't have to know that.

At long last, he reached the bottom of the hill. Unannounced, without any sort of greeting, he merely sat down. He avoided looking at Alfred and favor of setting down his backpack. 

Alfred looked up, and his eyes met with Arthur. Oh bloody Hell, was this a good idea? He was dead! Alfred looked in confusion and slight fear. Oh dear. "U-Ummm, can I help you?" He asked, surprised and confused and just a little anxious. Oh god, that look on his face was adorable.

"Yes. You're going to help me with my maths homework " Arthur announced flatly. Arthur ignored how Alfred started to splutter in outraged surprise as he got out his maths textbook and the papers that accompanied it. 

"W-what- what but you're ... I don't even know you!" Alfred weakly protested, his face contorted in shock. Arthur knew he was also scared that he, such a delinquent, had approached him for help. He had to pray Alfred didn't think he was being made fun of. Such a cute and adorable soul didn't deserve that.

"My name is Arthur."

"Y-yes ...but how-"

"I'm not here to bully you. I have simply hit a wall with my grades and am in need of your assistance." Arthur said. He tried to remain calm, remain completely passive. Not to worry, it wasn't like his mind composed of unearthly screeching right now. "I'm asking for your help. Not forcing."

Alfred stared, his mouth open like a codfish, and Arthur tensed, not sure if what he was doing was correct. Oh no, he had messed up. He ruined his chances. Alfred doesn't want him, not like-

"I-I mean ... I guess." Alfred answered quietly, closing his science textbook slowly, his face red.

Oh. Oh my God.

"Really?" Arthur said, his mind jumping for joy. He was really doing it. He was really talking to Alfred, he was accomplishing his dreams.

"Y-yeah. It….you're not going to beat me up if I say no, right?" Alfred asked rather apprehensively, shrinking into himself. Arthur had to refrain from reacting in outrage. Why on earth would he want to hurt his beautiful blessing that he did not deserve?

"No," Arthur said dismissively. "I promise." 

Alfred noticeably swallowed before nodding. "Y-yeah I'll help you. What do you need help with?"

Holy shit, Alfred was so cute up close, Arthur was going to lose it. What should he say? "Particularly recent lessons in more complicated problems…"

___________________


	28. Day Twenty-Eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one sat in my phone's notes application for almost an entire year. Sometimes I just randomly forget to write things when the prompt proves hard to write. Or I get lazy. I'm a Pisces, I can't help it  


Day Twenty-Eight: Drama

"No. Absolutely not. I don't want him on the set." Arthur said irritably.

"You haven't got a say in it, Arthur. You're only my assistant director." Roderich reminded in a tone of equal irritation. He always had to remind Arthur that, at the age of sixteen, he was not old enough to be a director and have the entire responsibility of an entire play production on his shoulders. Arthur also liked to remind him that he only had one year until he could.

"I don't care. Jones is a fucking twat. I refuse to work with him." Arthur repeated. His mood had determinedly soured once Roderich had shared with him his choice of casting, which was also approved and in some cases, hand picked by the Drama director. 

"You're not even on stage with him!" Roderich snapped. "Listen. I can't change this whole production just because you hate the star. Swallow your pride and deal with it or I will ask Mr. Romulus for a new assistant director." The snobby senior glared at Arthur to set his words in stone.

Arthur bit back his lip in an attempt to hold back his retort. The older man was right. He had the power to strip Arthur of his position, and therefore his dreams and reputation in a heartbeat. He muttered his choice of English swears words under his breath.

"Fine. Say we cast Jones. Why in the bloody hell would you cast him as Hamlet himself?" Arthur asked begrudgingly. He had been rather happy to discover that this year's first-semester play was a Shakespeare one. Now he wondered if this was going to ruin his opinion of the story of Hamlet altogether.

"Because his audition was flawless. He beat all the other incompetent losers by a mile. " Roderich snorted. He dropped the papered results on the teacher's desk. "Are we done? I'd really rather like to eat lunch with my girlfriend today."

Arthur glared at him and sighed in defeat. "Yes. I suppose we are." Roderich only nodded off Arthur and grabbed his bag and violin case. Seconds later, the door was shut behind him. 

He did not feel like a people person that day. The argument had basically killed any enthusiasm he had for eating lunch. Especially since Francis insisted upon eating with him every single day. Perhaps he'd just sneak into the library and spend the remaining hour of lunch there. Yes, that sounded rather nice.

The Brit grabbed his rather heavy bag and left the Drama room in a hurry. He needed to think anyway. The school cafeteria was definitely not the place. That settled it then. The library it was. 

______________________

It was fifteen minutes until rehearsal started. Of course, Arthur was already there, sitting in the back with the technical design and the director's chair. He had a binder full of the script and notes for everything. Lighting, sound, positions. He had learned to keep tabs on everything at all times from Romulus. Though, usually, the old teacher was carefree and excused mistakes without hesitation.

He stared upwards and his eyes immediately landed on Jones. There was a reason why he was against Alfred having any part in this production. It wasn't like he actually hated Alfred. Far from it, actually. It was more like he wished he could freely hate Alfred. If it weren't for the silly school girl crush he had on him for three semesters.

Arthur had no idea when exactly it started. He had Drama with him the first semester. Perhaps it had started then. To his utter surprise, Alfred was a natural at acting. He did an outstanding job on every assignment, becoming the absolute first pick during group projects. It was easy to think that was when it all began. Arthur happened to catch himself staring straight at Alfred and not any of the other students and knew he was screwed.

Then he started to stare at every feature of his face. Those gorgeous blue eyes. The way his blond hair looked in the wind. How even in the winter the boy still had the richest sun-kissed skin, just slightly freckled here and there. The glasses were like the cherry on top, making him look older, and somehow just even more dashing. He thought the girls who whined he look cuter without them were mental. To be fair, he had always thought girls like that were mental. 

Today was no different. It didn't seem to matter that no one in his usual social group was there, he seemed to have found people to talk to. Arthur had always envied how quickly he could just talk to people and make friends. Then again, he was completely fine on his own. He had friends of course, but it wasn't like the whole campus was his friend or something.

There was no way his sanity would survive having to work with Jones like this. Having to rehearse with the cast five days a week. Not to mention he was the protagonist, Hamlet himself. Having to look at the prat every day, his obnoxiously loud demeanor, and oh God, that beautiful smile that made Arthur swoon-

Alfred had stopped talking. He was looking at him now. Oh, bollocks! He had been staring! Arthur flinched in his seat and quickly forced himself to look down again, stuffing his face into his binder. He pretended it was only a convenience Alfred had caught him looking and stared down at his notes.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Alfred still looking in his direction. Arthur blushed profoundly and flipped a page, ignoring how his stomach twisted furiously at the notion that Alfred fucking Jones was looking at him. Looking at him! Oh bloody hell, he was not going to survive the next three months.

He chanced glancing from the corner of his eye. Alfred was now walking towards him. Oh shit. Arthur, what have you done? 

"Hey, Artie!" Alfred greeted happily. His hands are on the desk, feet away from Arthur. Arthur fixed a scowl on his face, trying to hide the fact he had been swooning over the American like a teenage girl. That was likely the reason Alfred was over here now. Damn it all.

"Please, don't call me Artie. It's Arthur." Arthur said coolly, ignoring how Alfred was leaning little by little on the desk, his white shirt showing off such a brilliantly detailed chest that no high school student should be allowed to have. How the boy managed to stay so fit when he had the diet of a horse, he had no idea.

"Aw, don't be like that! I just came over to say hi!" Alfred pouted. He looked so childish, it was adorable. Arthur wished he could make Alfred stop acting so adorable, just to retain his mental sanity. "You looked lonely over here." He added.

Arthur was caught between a scoff and something that sounded like a surprised squeal and Arthur literally had to stop himself from covering his mouth. He quickly glared at Alfred. "I assure you I am completely fine and do not need your pity." That's all it was anyway, right? Pity.

"No, really," Alfred said. "I've been meaning to talk to someone else anyways. Those girls give me the creeps." He gestured his head behind him, meaning the group of girls he had been talking to earlier. 

Arthur frowned. Now that was out of line. "What do you mean? I thought they were your friends." Arthur asked, pretending he didn't actually give a hoot. He wished he didn't give a hoot. 

"Heh, them? They're more like my creepy admirers. I'm only nice to them because I don't wanna hurt their feelings. I don't really like girls." Alfred said. Arthur frowned more. Alfred Jones didn't like girls?

"What about that rumor about you snogging Michelle in the closet?" Arthur asked in distaste. Or the fact that Alfred would date girls all the time only a year ago. There was no way Alfred had now turned gay. People of his kind didn't just suddenly turn gay. Not to mention Alfred liking guys made Arthur's brain stop and he really didn't like it.

"Michelle? Wait, what's snogging?" Alfred asked in confusion. 

"Oh never mind," Arthur said dismissively, deciding not to get mad that Alfred didn't know what the British slang word meant. "I do hope you mean to take this role seriously and not fuck up the entire performance, Jones."

"Call me Alfred." Alfred corrected, smiling ever so brightly. "And, of course, I will! This is cool! Besides it's really easy after a while, ya know? I kinda like it."

"Says the person who flaunts around their grammar that sounds like a train wreck." Arthur snorted. Okay yes, Alfred could be unbearably annoying sometimes but the second Alfred did something that corresponded as attractive, Arthur would find the annoyance dying in an instant.

"Whatever. It's also nice because I get to see you more often." Alfred said.

Arthur opened his mouth but froze. He felt himself blush. Did he just say ...? No. No, he didn't. It was a joke. A prank. A lie. Whatever. Arthur wasn't going to harvest false hope like this. "Stop lying Jones." He muttered quietly, sticking his nose back in his binder as he did frequently with his books.

Alfred frowned a little and opened his mouth. However, that was the point when Mr. Romulus finally sluantered onto the stage and cleared his throat. It was well known not to ignore the aging Drama director when he was about to address his students. Alfred closed his mouth and quickly ran off back towards the front of the theatre. 

Arthur already knew what he would say. He knew he was right. No student like Alfred would so willingly hang out with him. He didn't care. It seemed to only frustrate him when Alfred did it. He wanted what Alfred said to be true, but then there would be no rhyme or reason. It wouldn't make sense. 

Arthur pushed his reading glasses up his nose and flipped over to the opening act. It was high time he focused rather than daydreaming.

______________________


	29. Day Twenty-Nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more to go. One more. Oh my god. I'm actually going to complete this. Jesus Christ. Where did this month go?
> 
> Pottertaila. Harry potter. Harry Potter is my childhood and one of the beginnings of my weird British culture obsessions. I still memorize useless trivia and take quizzes online.  
I'm a Slytherin myself. ^^

Day Twenty-Nine: Pottertaila

Arthur was heavily crushing on a Gryffindor.

A rather dashing one, in his forced opinion.

Alfred Franklin Jones. Gryffindor Seeker and he was American. He was rambunctious and annoying and loud and Arthur hated him from the beginning of the first year. How the ruddy hell he managed to develop some silly schoolgirl crush on him he had no idea.

Not to mention what it would do to his reputation. He was a Slytherin, and while he didn't think anything like blood purity actually meant anything, he did care about his status as a Slytherin. He had all of the best grades, was prefect, and was on a path right to the ministry of magic. He couldn't imagine what stupid rumors would start if people knew Arthur Kirkland was in love with a Gryffindor.

Now, oh but now, he had the misfortune of being the boy's tutor.

"My tutor is a Slytherin?!" The boy exclaims, a look of comical astonishment on his face.

Arthur glares at him as his quill hits the table. This was going to be a long month. "Do you have a problem with that?" He asked irritably.

"No ...I just." Alfred blinks as he walks closer, his messy robes a stark contrast to Arthur's neat ones. "I never thought a Slytherin would wanna tutor someone."

Arthur rolls his eyes and taps his quill impatiently on the table. "Stop being a stereotypical prat and sit down, Jones. We have a lot to do."

Alfred sighs a little overdramatically and sits down in the opposite chair, scraping his chair loudly enough that the Brit wasn't surprised Madam Pince didn't come scuttling over. 

"Did Professor McGonagall send you on me?" Alfred said, pouting childishly. God, Arthur really couldn't tell whether or not he was getting tired of him or not. The butterflies in his stomach was making it hard. 

"Professor McGonagall went looking for a tutor, and Slughorn recommended me. He thinks rather highly of me." He explained, giving a look of distaste at the name of his head of house. It wasn't like he didn't respect Slughorn, but the way he flaunted his students, honestly, it annoyed him.

"Every teacher does," Alfred whined, annoyed by the comment. "I don't see why I have to have a tutor. I have things to do."

"McGonagall tells me you're rather adamant about becoming an Auror, and your marks don't exactly catch up to that dream. If this is all too challenging for you, then, by all means, you're more than welcome to find a different dream occupation."

"I ...You're no fun." Alfred pouts, grabbing his books out of his bag defeatedly.

Arthur just nods tiredly. "I'm glad you saw reason. Now, I recommend we begin with potions…"

And so began their mutual need for each other. Arthur was annoyed and frustrated by Alfred's presence, but he couldn't quit. Not when his head of house put him there. Not when the thought made him disappointed for reasons he couldn't understand. He never got to see Alfred all that much, however much he hated him. He couldn't help but feel excited inside whenever the boy got near him.

For the next month, as the autumn season began to die down and winter started to take over, they more so began to tolerate each other. They didn't fight, but they bickered, and Arthur's temper still seemed to blow off a lot with him around. (The whole in love with him part wasn't helping him much either.)

Lately, his own mood hadn't been helping him either. He couldn't tell if being near Alfred all the time had made it worse or better. Maybe both, if possible. It didn't help that the next Hogsmeade trip was coming up and that's all anyone wants to talk about. And, unfortunately, about how Arthur wasn't going.

He had more important things to do. If he went, what more would be accomplished than what he would already be doing at the castle? It wasn't like he had anyone who he would want to go with, and Merlin knows nobody was going to ask him out. 

He most certainly wasn't bitter about it. That would be ridiculous.

"Hey, um, Artie?" Alfred spoke up, breaking up the silence.

"Yes, what?" Arthur snaps, already in a bad mood. Alfred didn't do anything wrong today, he was stressed and tired and really not ready to deal with people. He didn't care if Alfred had to desk with his bad moods. Not one bit.

"You seem grumpy."

Arthur furrows his brows and gives him a look. "And since when do you care, Jones? Go back to reading." He was definitely not in the mood for Alfred's jokes.

"Hey, come on!" Alfred said, acting offended in his own childish charm. "I just wanted to know what's up with you. You seem more grumpy lately."

Arthur frowns and snaps his eyes back to his Transfigurations book. "I'm surprised you took the time to notice."

"See? You're ignoring me more and stuff." Alfred said, resting his chin on the palm of his hand. "Is something bothering you?"

Oh, gee, whatever could be bothering him at this exact time and second? Arthur fights down a snort and scowled at the persisting American. "Bugger off. I'm fine." 

Alfred gives him a look of astonishment before rolling his eyes and leaning back in his chair. "Fine. Whatever you say Mr. Grumpy Grump."

"My name is Arthur." The Brit deadpans, going back to his own homework. 

For the next few minutes, it's quiet in their little space in the back of the library. Minus the scratching of their quills, they're undisturbed. Arthur actually got more than a few paragraphs read.

"Hey, Art?" Alfred said, looking up.

"I'm not a culinary activity, please address me properly."

Alfred actually snickers this time before going. "Okay fine. Arthur. I wanna ask you something."

He cursed himself internally as the butterflies in his stomach jump at the question. God, he hated his feelings. "What?"

"Do you have plans to go to Hogsmeade?" Alfred asked, brightening up like a child at the mention of the place.

Arthur raised a brow. Why on earth would he want to know that? "Why?"

"I wanted to invite you to go there with me."

Arthur's heartbeat froze. What? "Pardon?"

"What? I wanted to ask you if you wanted to go together to Hogsmeade. You know, to hang out. Like friends." Alfred smiles, and it makes Arthur's insides jump. His heart begins to melt on the inside. Alfred wanted to hang out…?

Suddenly his heart jumped. "I-Is this like a date?"

Alfred tilts his head, laughing like an idiot. Almost too much. Was that anxiety? "Ha! Uh, no. It's not a date! We barely know each other! It's a ...friend thing! Come on! You can't miss a Hogsmeade day!"

Arthur feels his brain implode as his stomach butterflies begin to dance as he computes those words. "You consider me a friend?" He asks slowly. He didn't deserve to be Alfred's friend. He thought Alfred hated him. Surely he would, right? He treated him so poorly, usually on purpose.

"Well yeah, we hang out a lot right?"

"I'm your tutor, Jones."

"Yeah, so? Still! Come on! Please? You cannot tell me you do not wanna go to Hogsmeade!" Alfred said, looking at Arthur with a look of pleading. God, he looked like a begging puppy. Why was Alfred Jones so perfect??

"Is this a joke? Or a pity invite? If it is, I'm not going to accept your pity." Arthur forces out, scared to believe it. Why would Alfred want to hang out with him? It didn't make sense! What if this was all a joke? He didn't want it to be a joke!

"Ha, no!" Alfred laughs. "Why would I do that?"

Arthur simply furrows his brow. He could think of a few reasons. House rivalry. Hatred. Pure idiocy. He shakes the urge to name them all out loud. He really wanted to say yes. He felt scared though. What if he messed things up? What if he actually got Alfred to hate him for real? 

"Hey?" Alfred waves a hand in his face, trying to catch his attention. "You wanna go or not?

Arthur flustered up and swatted Alfred's hand away. "Ah, yes. Of course. I'd like to go."

Alfred brightens like a kid being given a cookie. "Really?"

"Y-Yeah," Arthur said, fighting the urge to smile. Was this such a bad idea? His stomach butterflies seemed to think quite the opposite. 

"Awesome!" Alfred gives a shout of triumph, slamming the book. Arthur jumps, his enthusiasm throwing him off. He was such a child. 

He had no real idea whether or not he could do this. Or if he was going to regret it. He dearly hoped not.

________


	30. Day Thirty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LAST DAY. OH MY GOSH. I DID IT. PRAISE ME. :D
> 
> Since tomorrow is Halloween, it's fitting that I do a Halloween themed chapter, right? Cept canon verse. I don't do canon. :p Lots of reasons why ,I promise.

Day Thirty - Halloween

Their little chase had been going on for a while now.

Neither of them really knew when it had started, or why. For the past few months, they had simply been trying to catch each other. It was a deadly chase, both of them harboring no mercy for the other. They were bloodthirsty monsters at heart after all, no matter how human they seemed on the outside.

Alfred had no idea what he was going to do when he caught the warlock. He was met with many tempting visions. Perhaps a slow torturous time or he could keep him as a little plaything for a while. He didn't know much about the other. Not even his name. He hadn't gotten close enough to find out. 

But there was just something about him that infuriated Alfred. He was the top of his game. Nobody had ever escaped him, except for Mr. Warlock guy. It made things fun again. Suddenly Alfred was met with the desire to catch him at all costs, to know the person who kept tricking him at every turn, who got away every time. It was certainly a lot more entertaining than chasing down humans.

But then he had been caught.

He meant to sneak into the warlock's house. He wanted to ambush him, the element of surprise on his side. The guy wasn't even supposed to know that the other knew where he lived. He was confident nothing would go wrong.

But then he had been ambushed, caught, and tied to a chair. Great. What fun.

The warlock came back into the room, the hood still up. He had always had his hood up every time they met, and Alfred didn't know why. He was interested in seeing what this warlock fellow looked like. He wanted to know badly. 

Alfred jerked his wrists, trying to get free of the ropes. He was getting some serious rope burns, and it was annoying. His clothes were dirty and ruffled, his mask lost on the floor. He didn't like being tied up, he was the one who tied up people. He didn't like being caught. It frustrated him to no end, and the more frustrating part, it horribly intrigued him. Now he only wanted to know the warlock's identity even more.

"Hey! You!" Alfred said, trying to get the guy's attention. He struggled more in his binds, shaking the chair. "Hey!"

The warlock ignored him, flipping another page of whatever book he was looking at. Alfred scowled, not liking being ignored. He huffed, ceasing his struggling.

"Hey! Warlock guy! I'm talking to you!" Alfred shouted, heavily irritated. He so wanted to punch that hood off his face. He wanted to break all of his bones and watch him bleed out. He wanted to hear him scream. 

The warlock turns, his visible mouth blank and unimpressed. There was an audible sigh before his book was closed shut. Slowly, the warlock began to walk towards him.

"What are you, deaf?" Alfred jokes, eyes narrowing. 

There's a snicker as the warlock approaches him. "No, but with your tone, I might as well be. You do realize I'm in the same room as you, right?" His sliver British tone rang, almost music to his years. He almost wondered what it would sound like begging for mercy. Or laughing with genuine ecstasy.

"I don't like being ignored," Alfred said, glaring at him coldly. Some said his stare was enough to make anyone run for it, but it appeared that effect wasn't working on the warlock, who came to rest right in front of him, less than feet away.

"I've noticed, and it appears you don't like losing either. Or being trapped. You really are just some spoiled brat, aren't you?" The warlock snickers as Alfred began to growl at him. "What's wrong? Is this your first time losing to someone?"

"No. Your voice is just really annoying," Alfred said, gritting his teeth. 

"Mmm, I thought you liked it. It seems to make you laugh harder when I luagh." The warlock smiles, and Alfred revisits the need to punch him.

"The whole hood thing is kinda a big turn off, buddy," Alfred smirks. "Why don't cha' just take it off?"

The hooded man seems to consider this, putting his hand to his chin as if deep in thought. "Oh, but why would I do that? I rather like keeping you in the dark about all of this." He said playfully, talking to the other almost in the same tone as one would use to address a toddler.

"Because I wanna have an accurate envision of what your face looks like under my boot." Alfred said, and then he spat on his face.

The warlock recoils, before slowly removing his navy blue hood. Alfred's eyes widened as he's met with alarmingly green eyes, distaste shining in them. The man scrunches his nose, holding up a gloved hand to wipe away the spit. "You're such a child, aren't you? Honestly, one would try to treat their captors with a little more resepct."

Alfred narrows his eyes, not at all disturbed or enamored by the stunning acidic green eyes in front of him. Or the soft, round, almost feminine face. "Why's that?"

"If it were me, I wouldn't be so rude. After all, you have no idea what I'm about to do to you, do you?" The warlock tilted his head, his rich ,golden, thick locks framing his face perfectly wherever they went.

Alfred begrudgingly considers these words, cursing how true they all. "Oh yeah? And what exactly do you plan to do with me then?"

The warlock taps his chin thoughtfully, almost looking like he was pretending not to know. "Hm. Well, I have thought I could use some entertainment around here. After all, I do live all alone in the woods."

Uh, what? Okay, Alfred had been thinking of painful curses and torture, not….that. "What now?"

"I said you'll make a great little pet." The other said, smirking. "Now that I've caught you, I can do whatever I want with you. I can make you bound to me so that leaving me can fatally wound you, and it would be nice to have something that can't die to test all my experiments on."

Alfred growls. He wanted a plaything? This guy was an ass! Did he really think Alfred would submit to such a thing? "I'm not some dog. I'd rather you just torture me."

"Oh, I might. But what do I do once I've broken you?"

"You won't. I'd have escaped by then."

The warlock laughs, his tone sinister. "In case I wasn't clear before, you're not escaping. At least, I'll make sure you'll regret it."

"How?" Alfred teases, smirking cockily. He would admit, he had no idea what he meant, but he wasn't going to show that. "You gonna make me drink some love potion and force me to fall in love with you?"

"No. Love potions wear off." The man dismissed. "But I do know a little spell that will bind you to me for as long as I want. Call it a sort of ritual, but once it's done, you can't leave me without fatally wounding yourself. You won't be able to escape."

Alfred's heart dropped. Or whatever thing he had that resembled a heart. What? "You're bluffing." He claimed, unable to believe such a defeat.

"Oh, but I'm not." The warlock smirks wider. "Want to read the page for yourself?"

Anger and astonishment began to pile up inside of him. "You fucking bastard." 

"Why thank you." The warlock snarks, eyes gleaming mischievously. "Won't it be great? Me, free to do whatever I wish with you? You, forced to do my bidding?"

"I will not do anything your egotistical ass wants me to." Alfred spat, venom in his voice. He didn't care what he planned to do with him, but he was never going to do whatever he said. Not in a million years.

"How rude." The warlock notes, frowning. "You know I have a name. It's Arthur. I'd rather you use it."

"Don't care." Alfred said, shrugging in honest uncaring. To him he was a bastard. An ass. A jerk.

"Mm. Fine. I have patience. After all, I have been planning this for quite some time"

A shiver went down his spine. Alfred widened his eyes. "You planned this?!"

"Yes. Did you really think you were the one at the top of the game?" Arthur snickers, leaning in on Alfred. "I've been planning to capture you and make you mine since the day our little chase started. I even let my location slip, knowing you would try to attack me in my own home." He lifts his hand and cups Alfred's cheek, his hand warm and pale. "It makes me quite happy that all of my plans went accordingly."

Alfred growls and yanked his face away from Arthur's grip. "You fucking bastard. Once I get out of these ropes I swear I'm gonna tear your head off with my bare hands." He wants to watch the damm warlock suffer, make him pay. Make him feel his hatred.

But Arthur simply just laughed. "You're welcome to try." He bonks Alfred on the nose and walks away, a skip to his step.

"Now then, let's get started then, shall we?"

_____________

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little ironic consdiering the last sentence in this thing inculdes the word "start." Lol.
> 
> It's going to be hard adjusting to not having to write everyday. I think I've created a new writing pattern for myself.


End file.
